


Swords and Flares

by Orithain, Rina9294



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Original, Alternate Universe - Steampunk, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Fated pairing, M/M, Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-29 20:02:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 68,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5140757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orithain/pseuds/Orithain, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rina9294/pseuds/Rina9294
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where magic and technology work hand in hand, the Kingdom of Albion is protected by talented Pairs, one of them Sword Arthur and Flare Merlin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> We originally wrote (and finished) this while the show was still on the air, but we never got around to editing or posting it. So... shiny, new fic. Sort of.

Merlin Emrys leaned leather-clad elbows on the parapet of the upper balcony of the Pairs Hall, dark blue eyes intent on the various vehicles converging on the hall, most of them originating from the Sword Academy and the Flare Academy located at opposite ends of the sprawling Sword and Flare Complex. Today was the semi-annual pairing ceremony, where Flares and Swords who had turned eighteen met and found their pair-mates. Or in Merlin’s case, didn’t. He was one of only a handful of Flares in the history of Albion who had not paired the first time he was presented, and if he didn’t find his pair-mate this time, he might just pull a mountain down on top of himself to hide.

“And just why are you hiding up here?” a feminine voice asked from behind him, the speaker breaking into a wide smile when Merlin spun to look at her. “Your potential partners are going to be down in the hall, not floating in the air—you do know that, don’t you?”

“That’s easy for you to say, Morgana. You and Gwen paired the moment you laid eyes on each other, but who’s to say that I’m going to pair at all? I didn’t last time, and you know as well as I do that’s virtually unheard of.” He slumped back against the sturdy ledge, looking depressed.

The tall, lithe, brunette woman pulled him into a hug at that, leaning her forehead against his. “Virtually doesn’t mean totally, you silly man,” she scolded gently. “What if he or she wasn’t old enough to stand for pairing yet? Are you just going to give up because of one disappointment? And if you say yes, I _am_ going to box your ears.”

Merlin regarded her wryly. With his long, angular features, high cheekbones, and wide, mobile mouth, not to mention the very prominent ears, he should have looked comical, but somehow it all came together into a very attractive dark-haired, blue-eyed package. “Everyone seems to be obsessed with my ears. Please don’t do anything to make them swell and become any more prominent.”

“Then do as you’re told and come downstairs,” Morgana smirked, tucking her arm into the crook of his and starting the younger Flare toward the stairs. “Though I happen to think they’re very attractive ears.”

“You only say that because you’re paired with Gwen, who doesn’t have them,” Merlin retorted although he followed along without protest. “If I don’t pair tonight, I’m going to crawl into a hole and die,” he groaned.

“Gwen has ears as you very well know—and none of that. If you don’t—and the chances are remote—you’ll come back in six months, or are you going to explain that fact to Magister Gaius?”

Merlin shuddered at the thought of telling the powerful Flare who was in charge of the Academy and, along with the Swords’ Proctor, of all Pairs that he was giving up. He could imagine the lecture and the chores that would be assigned to help him regain his equilibrium. “No, I’ll keep coming back as long as I’m allowed,” he admitted morosely.

“Good answer!” Morgana said bracingly as she squeezed Merlin’s arm. “And I would have dragged you down in any case; Gwen is off checking on the Swords who are up for pairing, so I _have_ to do the same for you lot.”

“Now you’re matchmaking?” Merlin asked, chuckling. “I don’t think it’s up to you.”

Morgana snorted and reached up to smack the back of Merlin’s head. “We’re making sure you all are being positive, not pining away in the rafters.”

“You’re getting much too violent since you started spending all your time with a Sword,” Merlin grumbled.

“So you think,” Morgana laughed. “Besides, we have to keep our skills sharp, and practicing together does that.” They reached the ground floor and walked out into the main hall which was bedecked in tapestries that mixed the vibrant blue and red of the Flares’ and Swords’ traditional colors.

“Is it very different working with a Sword?” Merlin asked wistfully.

“It’s...” Morgana looked at him, her smile almost beatific. “It’s all that they say and more. I feel complete, Merlin. Gwen knows me inside and out, and I know her, but you’ll see; you’ll know.”

“I want that so much,” Merlin said, his steps slowing. “It feels like there’s a part of me that’s empty.”

Morgana paused and pulled him into a hug, rubbing her hand over the soft leather that covered his back. “You’ll have it, Merlin, I know it.”

“Well, if I’m going to, I need to be down in the reception hall.” Merlin squared his shoulders and strode forward, hoping that he wouldn’t be disappointed again that day.

~*~

“You will send my father my apologies, but you will inform him that I cannot attend his cabinet meeting today.” The words were spoken as Arthur Pendragon, heir to the throne of Albion and unpaired Sword, expertly knotted his cravat and tucked it into his ruby-toned brocade vest. “The pairing ceremony is today, and I cannot miss this one as I did the last.” Blue eyes rose to study the courier in the mirror as Arthur buttoned his black cut-away jacket and tugged at the cuffs of his white linen shirt.

Nodding at his appearance, he turned and reached for his belt and scabbarded sword, belting it at his hip, that and the tattooed dragon on the inside of his right wrist the visible signs of the position he had earned, not been born to.

“Sire, the king was most specific that he required your attendance today,” the servant argued, growing desperate. Being caught between the king and his heir was one spot that no sane man wanted to find himself in, but here he was.

“If the king asks why his son is not present, tell him it was because I demanded that he stay.” Both Arthur and the servant turned to look at the speaker, a dark-haired, dusky-skinned man whose eyes looked far older than his features appeared.

“Proctor Lancelot.” The courier bowed deeply to the head of the Sword Academy. “I will carry your message, sire,” he said, giving up now that the Proctor had entered the fray.

“Thank you, Proctor,” Arthur said, bowing to the older man.

“It was my pleasure to fulfill my duty to one of my best students. You will have every opportunity to find your pair-mate, Arthur,” Lancelot said calmly, not voicing a suspicion that had been growing in his mind for the past six months.

Arthur’s smile was wide though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Of course I will; that’s what these gatherings are for, are they not?”

“They are,” Lancelot agreed serenely. “Now come, it’s time for us to make our way to the Pairs Hall. You wouldn’t want to be late.”

“Most certainly not, that would be rude,” Arthur said, smiling slightly as he buttoned his jacket and assured himself that he could reach his sword and the multitude of other weapons secreted about his body.

“And that of course is something that can never be said of you,” Lancelot said dryly, remembering Arthur’s early days at the Academy, straight from his father’s court.

Arthur looked wounded before smiling wryly and following Lancelot out of the room and toward the carriage that was waiting for them.

~*~

 “Here goes nothing,” Merlin muttered, plastering a smile on his face and then walking into the reception hall where he would either find his pair-mate or be forced to endure another six months of embarrassed loneliness.

“Good luck, Merlin.” A short, dark-skinned woman whose long, curly hair was pulled back into a knot squeezed his arm before walking over to Morgana’s side and settling there, both of them looking utterly comfortable with each other.

“Thanks, Gwen,” Merlin said, smiling at the Sword who’d become a good friend since pairing with Morgana. He made his way through the crowds, nodding to Flares he knew and trying to see any Swords he hadn’t met previously.

The thickening of the crowd had him bumping into another man who turned to frown at him before his blond eyebrows flew upward to become lost behind his bangs as he stared at Merlin before dragging at his sleeve to look at his own wrist.

Merlin stared back before pushing his own sleeve up to stare at the dragon that had appeared entwined with his own tree of life. He raised bemused eyes to meet bright blue. “You.”

“I’m Arthur, and you are...”

“Merlin.” He stared. “You’re not just eighteen. Why didn’t I meet you last time?”

“I wasn’t here, and you weren’t at the meeting a year ago.” Arthur dragged his gaze from the free-form tree that had knotted itself into his own dragon to the other young man’s face, blinking at the intensity of his gaze.

“The last one was my first. When I didn’t find you, I thought I wasn’t going to pair. Where were you?” Merlin unconsciously moved closer, and Arthur caught his hand to turn it and look at his wrist.

“My father needed my assistance,” Arthur sighed.

“And he couldn’t wait one day till after the ceremony? Who does he think he is, King Uther?” Merlin demanded incredulously, causing Arthur to laugh brokenly.

“Actually, he is.”

“He is what?” Merlin asked, looking bewildered.

“King Uther.”

Merlin gawked. “Your father is King Uther? You’re _Prince_ Arthur?” He looked as if he’d been hit in the head with a board.

“At the moment, I’m Sword Arthur, your Sword, Merlin.”

“Yes. Yes, you are,” Merlin agreed, glancing down at where Arthur still held his wrist. He hesitated for a moment before leaning in, and Arthur met him halfway, his lips brushing against Merlin’s in the formal kiss of greeting between members of a pairing.

They parted again after a moment, and Merlin smiled. “All of my friends are going to be saying ‘I told you so,’” he chuckled. “They kept telling me I’d find my Sword.”

“Who can blame them?” Arthur chuckled though his blue eyes darkened as he spoke.

Catching the change in Arthur’s expression, Merlin frowned slightly. “What’s wrong?”

Before Arthur could answer, an elderly man wearing Flare formalwear—a royal blue topcoat and vest over black trousers and a white shirt, clapped a hand on Merlin’s shoulder before pulling him into a hug. Behind him stood a shorter man of a similar age, though his white hair was cut almost brutally short and he was dressed in a Sword’s black and red fighting leathers.

“Didn’t I tell you so, Merlin?” the Flare said in a fondly scolding tone. “Didn’t I tell him so, Ambrosius?” he appealed to his pair-mate, who nodded sharply.

“You did, Gaius,” he agreed while Merlin grinned and flushed.

“Magister Gaius, Sword Ambrosius, may I present to you my pair-mate Sword Arthur.” Merlin’s joy radiated from him as he stepped back from Gaius’ hug to stand next to Arthur again.

“Magister, Sword Ambrosius,” Arthur said, offering them both the bows due their rank.

“So I see the king didn’t find something for you to do tonight,” Ambrosius mused.

Merlin looked uneasy at the reminder of who Arthur’s father was, and he unconsciously reached for Arthur’s hand, the other young man glancing downward at the touch, then up to Merlin’s face before he closed his fingers around Merlin’s.

“I declined his invitation to the council meeting, and Proctor Lancelot supported my decision,” Arthur said carefully though his words drew a smirk from Ambrosius.

Merlin took in Ambrosius’ expression and decided he would really rather not inquire more deeply. “We really should find Gwen and Morgana,” he said instead, looking around. “They’ll kill me if they find out from someone else before I tell them myself.”

“Of course, go and enjoy the evening,” Gaius said, beaming at them and shooing them on their way, an act that had Arthur shaking his head as the older men left them.

“You know my cousin and her pair-mate?” he asked curiously.

Merlin cast him a startled glance. “Morgana’s your cousin? She never mentioned that. But yes, she’s been my friend since I arrived at the Academy. I wasn’t very popular with the other kids, what with being as powerful as I am, but Morgana didn’t care. She took me under her wing, even though she was only a year older, and helped me find my place here.”

Arthur’s brow creased as he frowned, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Merlin closely as they threaded their way through the gathering. “You’re telling me that they ignored you for being too good at what you were training for?” he asked incredulously.

“I wish they’d only ignored me,” Merlin said. “Kids aren’t known for kindness, Arthur. I showed up here, from a family that had never shown any signs of Flare talent, and I was more powerful than they’d ever seen before. It made training accidents interesting, I can tell you. Fortunately, the lessons came easily to me. It was almost as if I was remembering things I’d forgotten rather than learning something new.”

“You were hurt?” Arthur asked, his hand closing around Merlin’s arm and pulling him to a halt, heedless of the curious glances directed in their direction and the rising murmur of conversation as the news of the crown prince’s pairing spread.

Merlin’s lips curved in a shy smile of pleasure at this evidence of Arthur’s concern for him. “Just childish pranks, and trust me, I gave as good as I got. Besides, that was years ago. I’ve made friends since, not just Morgana.”

“Ah.” Arthur’s posture relaxed at that though a hint of tension remained in his body. “That’s good to hear.” He staggered forward a step as a small woman caught him in a hug, her teeth white against her skin.

“Congratulations, you two!”

“Guinevere, keeping my ribs in whole pieces is preferable,” Arthur laughed.

“You really could have done better, Merlin,” Morgana said, her warm smile belying the words as she hugged first Merlin and then, after Gwen released him, Arthur.

“I think I’ve done very well,” Merlin replied, his joy clear to see. “I was looking for the two of you, but I see you already heard our news.”

“Perhaps you can convince Merlin to eat more than a pigeon,” Gwen teased, all of them but Arthur well aware that Merlin was more likely to eat his own weight in food than pick at it.

“I’ll try,” Arthur chuckled, “though I think he looks fine the way he is.”

“Finally!” Merlin exclaimed. “These two keep insisting that I’m starved.”

“You _look_ like you’re being starved,” Morgana pointed out laughingly, causing Merlin to make a face at her.

“I do not!”

“No, you don’t,” Arthur assured him, staring levelly at the two women and causing Gwen to break into laughter.

“Was I this bad in the beginning?” she asked, grinning up at Morgana.

“Yes! Get used to it, Merlin,” Morgana laughed, “newly paired Swords are insanely over-protective.”

Merlin smiled at Arthur, clearly not minding in the least, so far at any rate. “There are many things I’m going to be happy to get used to.”

“Insanely over-protective?” Arthur sputtered at the same time, and Gwen patted him on the shoulder.

“Don’t worry; it eases off in the first few months.”

“It’s rather sweet,” Morgana said, smirking at Arthur. “I didn’t think you had it in you, dear cousin.”

Merlin’s eyes widened at the purposely taunting tone, and he looked warily from Morgana to Arthur. “Are you two always like this?”

“They are,” Gwen cut in before either of the other two could answer. “You have no idea how happy I am to have someone else around to help me control them when they start bickering!”

“We do not bicker!” Arthur and Morgana exclaimed.

“On five minutes’ knowledge, I’m going to have to agree with Gwen,” Merlin said wryly. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were brother and sister.”

“Arthur spent his summers on my family’s estate before we started our training,” Morgana offered even as Arthur rolled his eyes.

Merlin smiled at her. “I always wanted a sister. Although I wasn’t really looking for a hostile father,” he added, the smile fading as he remembered the king’s well-known dislike of Swords and Flares.

“The king understands that Albion needs us,” Proctor Lancelot said as he joined the group, both Arthur and Gwen drawing themselves up at his words. “And that even his decree cannot change what any of us are.”

“Somehow I don’t find that particularly comforting,” Merlin muttered, unconsciously moving closer to Arthur.

“You won’t be alone,” Morgana assured him.

“Never again,” Arthur nodded, resting a hand on Merlin’s shoulder, his fingers tightening.

Merlin’s expression lightened as he met the blue eyes. “I’m going to enjoy getting used to that.”

Arthur blinked at that then his eyes widened. “My apologies to both of you. Proctor Lancelot, may I present my pair-mate, Flare Merlin.”

“No need for apologies, Arthur,” Lancelot assured him. “I remember what it was like to find one’s pair-mate for the first time. And congratulations to you both.”

“Thank you, Proctor,” Merlin replied.

“Yes, thank you, Proctor,” Arthur echoed, smiling gratefully at the older man. “I’m looking forward to learning to work with Merlin.”

“It should be interesting,” Morgana put in. “Merlin’s the most powerful Flare we’ve ever seen. I hope you can keep up with him.”

“I’m sure it won’t be a problem,” Merlin put in hastily, wishing Morgana would stop teasing his Sword.

“Considering that after Proctor Lancelot, Arthur is the most talented student the Academy has put out, I doubt it will be,” Gwen put in, giving Morgana a stern look as she spoke.

“It seems you were meant for each other,” Morgana said, taking heed of her own Sword’s warning expression and Merlin’s pleading look.

“Yes, it does,” Merlin agreed happily.

“And that not even the king can deny,” Lancelot said, his smile proud but holding a hint of sadness.

Arthur started to answer but was cut short by a fanfare of trumpets as all conversation quieted and all eyes turned to the entryway. “It seems my father has arrived,” he sighed, looking over at Merlin and quirking a wry smile. “Don’t worry, he doesn’t bite.”

Merlin bit back a whimper and looked as if he wished the floor would open up beneath him. “I’m going to hold you to that,” he muttered, wide eyes fixed on the entrance and the way the crowd was parting and dropping into bows and curtseys as King Uther and his attendants strode through it.

“Your Majesty,” Lancelot intoned formally as he bowed, the move echoed by Arthur and Merlin while Morgana and Gwen curtseyed, having taken advantage of the occasion to don their rarely worn formal dresses.

“It is a pleasure to see you here, Sire,” Gaius said as he and Ambrosius joined them.

“Gaius, Ambrosius.” Uther acknowledged his old friends, but all his attention was on his son and the lanky young man half hiding behind him.

“Oh gods, he’s going to throw me in the dungeon,” Merlin muttered under his breath.

“Sire,” Arthur said as he straightened, his gaze firm as he looked at his father and his hand steady on Merlin’s shoulder, “I would like to present Flare Merlin, my pair-mate.”

Merlin dredged up a sickly smile for the king. “Sire.” He wasn’t going to attempt to force out any more than that.

“ _This_ is why you defied me, Arthur?” Uther was patently unimpressed by Merlin, his eyes raking over the nervous Flare until Morgana distracted him.

“Isn’t it wonderful, Uncle?” she said cheerfully. “They’re going to be an extraordinary pairing.”

“I did not defy you, Father,” Arthur said quietly, mindful of the many curious listeners around them. “I am your son and a Sword of Albion, and I have found my pair-mate, which means that I can serve both my king and my country to the fullest of my abilities, or is that not what you would wish for me?”

Uther looked like he’d swallowed a hedgehog, but he pasted on a fake smile and nodded. “Of course. You are an example to all our people, both of you,” he added with a glance at Morgana.

Arthur and Morgana murmured their thanks to Uther then Gaius and Lancelot stepped in and took over the conversation with the king, skillfully directing him away from the other group, Ambrosius walking after them, glancing back over his shoulder and winking at the younger Pairs.

“I am sorry for that,” Arthur sighed, turning to look at Merlin as he spoke.

“It was better than I was afraid of,” Merlin admitted, still standing very close to Arthur. “At least he didn’t try to kill me on sight.”

“He wouldn’t,” Arthur said flatly before taking a deep breath to calm himself and smiling charmingly. “And now that that piece of business is out of the way, I say we need to find where they’re hiding the champagne.”

“Right, this does call for celebration, doesn’t it?” Merlin grinned widely at him. “I can’t believe how easy this was in the end after all my worrying.”

“Told you so,” Morgana laughed.

“And she’s never going to stop telling you that,” Gwen added, making Merlin groan.

“Why me?” he asked pitifully before laughing. “It’s worth it!”

Arthur snorted at that but grinned. “I would hope you thought so, or I would have to wonder for your sanity!”

“Well, I did have to think about it when I realized this sort of makes Morgana my sister-in-law,” Merlin said with another grin.

“Hah! See if the two of you get a pairing present from us!” Morgana huffed while trying not to laugh.

“I don’t know,” Arthur mused, “I believe that shows Merlin is a smart man.

“The two of you are worse than siblings,” Gwen said with a shake of her head.

“I’ll have to practice silencing spells,” Merlin mused.

“And why is that?” Arthur asked, eyeing the other man closely.

“Because Gwen and I shouldn’t have to listen to you,” Merlin replied cheerfully.

“And do you agree with that, Guinevere?” Morgana asked sweetly.

“Of course I do; I’ve had to listen to you lot for much longer.” Gwen gave her pair-mate a charming smile, looking as if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.

“Run away with me, Morgana,” Arthur said suddenly. “It seems our pair-mates don’t appreciate us.”

Gwen doubled over with laughter before Morgana could say a word. “Oh good goddess, you’d kill each other inside an hour!” she gasped out when she could speak, and Merlin had to laugh in agreement.

“She does have a point,” Morgana sighed, patting Arthur’s arm in consolation, at which point he shook his head sadly before reaching out and swooping four glasses of champagne from a tray as a server passed by and then offering them to the others.

“Though I shouldn’t give the two of you any,” he added with a sniff.

Merlin batted his lashes theatrically. “You’d deprive your own pair-mate of a celebratory drink?”

“After that look, I think I need all of them myself!”

“You did look a bit like a brain-damaged fawn,” Morgana decided, ducking the blow Merlin aimed at her.

“I never did!” he exclaimed, insulted, as Gwen caught his hand before he could swing again.

“No trying to hit my Flare, only I can do that!”

“Ahh, that’s how it goes with the two of you, is it?” Arthur smirked before he drained his glass.

“Here now, aren’t you supposed to protect me from attacks by strange Swords?” Merlin demanded of him after failing to free himself from Gwen’s grasp.

“If she was trying to hurt you, I would; just don’t spill your champagne.”

“Your concern warms me,” Merlin snorted before laughing. “I don’t think I’d want to take the pair of them on either.”

“Oh, let him go, Gwen,” Morgana coaxed, crooking her finger at her pair-mate, who moved to her side and gave her a quick kiss.

Merlin took advantage of his freedom to put Arthur between himself and the two women and stuck his tongue out at them. “You’re supposed to be celebrating with us, not abusing me,” he informed them.

“For them, that is celebrating,” Arthur said, turning half around to look back at Merlin.

“Oh lovely. I’m so glad I’m an only child!”

“You are?” Arthur asked, turning the rest of the way to study Merlin. “What about annoying cousins?”

“None. It’s always been just me and my mum and dad.” Merlin decided not to mention dragons for now. “And now you, of course. But you seem to come with a host of relations.”

“And they belong to you now as well; aren’t you the lucky one?”

Merlin moaned. “I don’t suppose you could do something awful to get yourself disowned?” he asked hopefully.

Arthur’s smile faded away, and he shook his head slowly. “No, I don’t believe I can do that,” he murmured.

“Oh right, heir to the throne and all that. Sorry,” Merlin said sheepishly. “You’ll have to give me a bit to get used to that. I never imagined this.”

“Quite all right, it’s a shock, I know.”

“You realize that this entitles you to the title of prince, don’t you, Merlin?” Morgana said cheerfully, remembering Gwen’s dismay at her own title when they paired.

“What?” Merlin exclaimed in horror.

“Prince,” Gwen repeated with a wry smile as Arthur sighed.

“For now isn’t it enough for us to simply learn to be Sword and Flare together?”

Merlin nodded vigorously. “Yes, we can forget about titles _forever_ if it’s left up to me. Bloody hell!” He grabbed another glass of champagne from a passing waiter and barely restrained himself from gulping it down.

Arthur’s eyebrows rose at the comment, and he traded off his own empty glass for a full one to keep pace with his pair-mate. “I’m sure they’ll keep us much too busy these next months for you to even remember that.”

Merlin stared at him. “Arthur, in your entire life has anyone ever forgotten that you’re the bleeding heir to the bleeding throne? I don’t think it’s possible. However, I’m going to ignore it because I simply can’t deal with it, and you’re my Sword now, and I’m not giving you back.”

“I’m pleased to hear that because your trying to return me would be highly embarrassing.”

Merlin grinned lopsidedly. “Your dragon’s embedded in my tree.”

Arthur blinked at that before realizing that Merlin was speaking of the marks on their wrists. “Good thing they don’t feel it then, isn’t it,” he said carefully as he reached for the glass of champagne in Merlin’s hand only to have the leaner youth jerk it back out of reach.

“I think my tree likes it. It’s a very handsome dragon,” Merlin decided, peering at his wrist. “They look well together.”

Ignoring the feminine giggles that were growing in volume behind him, Arthur nodded almost painfully, wondering what other twists and turns the night would bring. “Yes, they do, which is a good thing considering we’ll both be wearing them the rest of our lives.”

“Mmm, yes, wouldn’t want them to look silly together.” Merlin looked up. “What happened to my champagne?” He peered into the empty glass. “I need more so we can celebrate.”

“Maybe we should celebrate with some food?” Morgana suggested gently. “You didn’t eat at all today, did you?”

Merlin shook his head. “I was too nervous.”

“Then you definitely need food,” Gwen nodded as Arthur looked around before signaling for a server, who hurried over with a tray of hors d’oeuvres.

“Perhaps we should sit?” he suggested.

“Good idea,” Merlin agreed, leaning against Arthur. “I’m suddenly very tired, but I want to celebrate. We deserve to celebrate.”

Balancing both the tray and most of Merlin’s weight, Arthur maneuvered them toward one of the seating areas at the side of the chamber, the girls going ahead to clear seats for them all.

“Sorry,” Merlin said. “I’m being a bit of a bother, aren’t I?”

“Not at all,” Arthur assured him as they sat, “it’s an important day; we deserve to celebrate.”

Merlin’s usual sunny smile made its appearance. “I definitely never expected you.”

“I could say the same. Now come on, eat something, or I will have stolen this tray from that poor man for nothing,” Arthur urged, offering the tray of food to Merlin, waiting until he had taken all he wanted before offering it to the girls.

“He usually holds his wine better,” Morgana told Arthur with a fond glance at Merlin. “But he’s been as nervous as you were about not finding his pair-mate, so I doubt he ate much yesterday either.”

“Which is quite something for Merlin,” Gwen added with a smile. “He usually eats his weight at every meal.”

“Then I suppose it’s a good thing that I have quite the stipend, isn’t it?” Arthur replied with a low laugh, taking note of the changed description of Merlin’s eating habits but choosing not to question it. Time would show which was accurate.

“I do _not_ eat that much!” Merlin said indignantly, rejoining the conversation and sounding much more like himself after eating a bit.

“It’s a good thing they have all that training coming up,” Morgana laughed.

“Yes, it is since it means we’ll be safe from you for a bit!” Merlin retorted.

“Very nicely put, Pair-mate,” Arthur commended before taking a morsel from the tray.

Merlin gave him a half bow from his seat and smirked at the women. “Finally I have reinforcements.”

“I was just thinking the exact same thing.”

“Much to our dismay,” Morgana huffed.

“You’ve had it your own way for much too long,” Merlin replied. “It’s not good for you.”

“And just what do you mean by that?” Gwen asked, struggling to keep from laughing.

“That you’re becoming tyrants,” Arthur put in.

“Also well put, Pair-mate,” Merlin praised.

“Oh, you two truly deserve each other,” Morgana exclaimed. “No one else should have to put up with either of you.”

“Thank you,” Arthur said to Merlin before looking back at Morgana. “Then why are the two of you still sitting here?”

“Because even though you don’t deserve us, we’re still going to celebrate with you.”

The crowd began to dwindle, with even Gwen and Morgana taking their leave at last after giving both of the young men tight hugs and strict orders to behave themselves.

“You would think they didn’t trust us,” Arthur mused, watching them go.

“It certainly seems that way,” Merlin agreed from his comfortable slouch in the chair next to his Sword. “We’ll have to prove them right after our training,” he added with a chuckle. “But right now, we need to see the steward to find our new rooms.”

“Which means getting up; are you sure you can stand?” Arthur asked, having kept count of how many glasses of champagne the other man had downed.

Merlin chuckled wryly. “I was fine after I started eating. Mostly,” he added as he got to his feet and swayed slightly.

“Would you care to lean on me?” Arthur asked as he stood as well and looked around for someone to check with regarding their new quarters.

“That might be best,” Merlin admitted, moving closer to Arthur and sliding his arm around his Sword’s waist, letting Arthur help support him.

Arthur waited until Merlin regained his balance, then rested his arm around the younger man’s waist as well and started them off, tracking down the Hall’s major domo who had the assignments for their new quarters and sent them off with a servant to lead the way.

Several forms shadowed them, and Arthur sighed, knowing that his father’s men were still keeping track of him, though the thought that this would be proven difficult when they were given their first mission cheered him.

Merlin looked at the small brass plate on the door they stopped at, smiling at the sight of his and Arthur’s marks entwined together there. These rooms now belonged to them and would as long as they both lived. “See, they do look good together,” he murmured, the door opening as he glanced at it.

“Very good,” Arthur nodded, handing the servant a few coins before carefully maneuvering Merlin through the doorway and inside, the gas lights flaring to life at their entrance. The center room was spacious and decorated with dark, heavy furniture upholstered in shades of blue and red, generic furnishings until they chose their own accoutrements.

“Let me guess,” he murmured, “one bedroom will be done in blue and one in red...”

“They are the traditional colors of Flares and Swords,” Merlin agreed. “Good job you really like red, isn’t it?”

“A little green might be nice from time to time,” Arthur sighed.

Merlin chuckled and raised a hand, murmuring a short spell, and when he lowered his hand again, the furniture in the room was upholstered in a rich forest green, a nice contrast to the wood. “Better?”

“Much, now please tell me that you know the spells to edge my weapons just as well,” Arthur said in a pleading tone.

“Of course,” Merlin replied, sounding insulted that Arthur had to ask. “I’d be rather useless as a pair-mate if I didn’t.”

“I was just making sure,” Arthur grinned. “And which room would you prefer?”

“I wouldn’t dream of taking your Sword-red room,” Merlin assured him with a sniff before laughing. “I’d have nightmares.”

“And here I thought you’d change the décor to match whatever you wanted the moment the door opened,” Arthur pointed out.

“Why bother to change more than I need to? I happen to like blue,” Merlin said.

Arthur shrugged at that. “A good point, and do you think you can stand on your own yet?”

“I’m sure I could, but I’m rather comfortable where I am,” Merlin admitted with a grin.

“So we’re to stand here this way all night?”

“Are you always going to be so blasted logical?” Merlin grumbled. “Fine, let’s see our rooms, and then I’ll stop leaning on you. Happy?”

“I’m the Sword; I’m supposed to be the logical one,” Arthur pointed out. “And I didn’t say you had to stop leaning on me; I don’t mind it in the least.”

“Good, I like it too,” Merlin said, leaning closer again. “So, which room first?”

Arthur glanced from one door to the other before nodding at the right hand one. “Closest one first?”

“Very reasonable,” Merlin agreed, following along as Arthur started in that direction. “And I do believe we’ve found your room, Sword,” he said, peering at the very red room. “I think I’ve been blinded.”

“Good gods,” Arthur groaned, staring in at the room. “I’m proud of what I am, but this is sheer insanity!”

Merlin nodded vigorously, already gesturing and muttering spells to change the room. When he was done, the walls were a warm cream color, and the only remaining red was in the draperies and bedding, the rest of the room changed to soft neutrals that were far more inviting.

“Thank you,” Arthur gasped. “I do believe I owe you my eyesight.”

“I dread to imagine my room. Whoever decorated appears not to understand moderation,” Merlin replied. “It’s absolutely amazing that we didn’t begin bleeding from the eyes!”

“Can you conjure smoked glasses for each of us before we look, or should we simply cower in here?” Arthur asked.

“I think I would dream of it attacking us in our sleep if we don’t deal with it immediately,” Merlin laughed. “We’re strong men in our prime. We can survive this.”

“Between weapons and sorcery we can vanquish it.” Arthur sounded as if he was having a hard time maintaining a serious tone.

“Our very first quest,” Merlin replied solemnly as they made their way to the other bedroom and flung open the door, only to gape in disbelief.

“Dear goddess, it’s the bottom of the sea!” Merlin moaned, shutting his eyes.

“I can shoot it if you’d like,” Arthur offered, twisting his left wrist to send a small derringer into his palm. “It might not help, but it would make me feel better.”

“Feel free,” Merlin said weakly, waving at the blue room. He could fix any damage along with the overwhelming blueness as soon as he regained his equilibrium. “I think it’s making me seasick!”

With that, Arthur took aim and fired, drilling a neat hole in the forehead of a particularly offensively shaded cherub that adorned one of the bedposts.

“Excellent aim, Pair-mate,” Merlin praised. “Why in the names of all the gods are there _cherubs_?” He shuddered, and then his eyes flared gold as the room changed, most of the blue vanishing along with all of the overly ornate decorations, leaving a simple, masculine room done in shades of grey and accented with tasteful sapphire blue draperies.

“Very nice,” Arthur said quietly though he was looking at Merlin rather than the room around them. “And perhaps they have evidence that Flares enjoy cherubs? There weren’t any in my room.”

Merlin gave him a look of disbelief. “I can assure you that I have no unnatural liking for cherubs. But do feel free to ask Morgana if she feels differently.”

“I’d really prefer to keep my manhood intact, thank you,” Arthur shuddered. “Your magic may not be able to harm me, but hers is a different matter entirely.”

“I’m glad to see my pair-mate isn’t insane,” Merlin chuckled. “I’d hate to have to save you from yourself.”

“Your charity is noted,” Arthur snorted, his eyes narrowing as he looked around the room, trying to learn what he could about the other man from the way he had chosen to decorate his living space. “I see they managed to move our things here while we were at the ceremony,” he commented, “unless you called them here while you were redecorating.”

“No, they were brought for us. And fortunately not dyed blue or red,” Merlin added with a shudder. “I wonder if they do that to everyone, and if so, what Morgana did to them. Her gifts don’t run to transmutation, and I’m sure that if she and Gwen had to live with those colors for more than a moment, someone suffered for it.”

“We’ll have to ask them the next time we see them,” Arthur chuckled, imagining his cousin awash in a sea of vibrant red and blue and unable to do anything about it.

“Be sure to duck when you do,” Merlin advised with a grin. “Morgana’s sense of humor has a habit of disappearing when the joke’s on her.”

“Something I know well, I don’t think she’s ever forgiven me for hiding her favorite doll when she was eight.”

“And you lived to tell the tale? I’m impressed!”

“I sat on her,” Arthur admitted wryly.

Merlin burst into laughter. “I think that makes your survival even more remarkable. You had to let her up eventually.”

“And then I ran like the wind.”

“You would have had to,” Merlin agreed, snickering. “I’m sure she got her revenge, though.”

Arthur’s expression morphed into a grimace. “She somehow dyed my favorite horse pink.”

Merlin gawked at him for a moment before toppling over as he howled with laughter. “Oh bright goddess, that’s so Morgana,” he gasped out when he could speak again.

“It was a lesson learned,” Arthur murmured.

Merlin sobered and sat up, regarding Arthur intently. “Oh, Arthur, not everything’s a lesson. Some things are just for fun,” he said softly.

“How something begins and how it ends can be quite different, depending on the circumstances,” Arthur commented before stepping back out of the doorway to walk around the main room, examining the furnishings.

“I think you’ll find that I’m much better at fun than lessons.” Merlin followed him out and stood watching Arthur explore the room. “I realize that you’ve had duty thrust upon you all your life, but I’m going to teach you how to relax, Pair-mate.”

“I know how to relax,” Arthur scoffed as he examined a weapons rack, nodding at the spaces for the ones he currently wore.

“Good, that’ll make it much easier to get to the having fun portion of our lives.” Merlin dropped down on the couch and swung his feet up onto the table as he continued to watch Arthur.

Arthur shook his head and chuckled at his Flare’s boneless appearance. “I’d pour you wine, but we do have training in the morning, and obscenely early unless I miss my guess.”

“I really don’t think I need any more wine,” Merlin replied wryly. “Unless you really want to have to carry me to bed.”

“It wouldn’t be difficult.” Arthur paused at that, letting Merlin make of it what he would.

Merlin cocked his head slightly, looking up at Arthur owlishly. “Perhaps another time.” He squirmed around to shrug out of his leather jacket and then unbuttoned the top several buttons of his shirt. “Oh, that’s much better,” he sighed.

“All right, I have to ask,” Arthur said as he unknotted his cravat, leaving it loose around his neck as he pulled off his topcoat, hanging it over the back of the couch, then unbuckling his sword belt, laying it down beside him as he stretched out his arms along the back and kicked his feet up alongside Merlin’s. “For someone who was so anxious about the gathering, just why did you wear your work leathers?”

Merlin smiled sheepishly. “I had been training earlier with Gaius to distract myself, and I was so busy trying not to freak out that I lost track of time, and then Morgana hustled me down to the gathering before I could change.”

Arthur snickered at the admission, then cleared his throat. “That would be an issue, though I’m glad that she herded you down.”

“Me too. Though your father must think I’m insane,” Merlin groaned, remembering meeting the king in his everyday clothes.”

“I can’t deny that, though that may have been the case no matter what you were wearing; hopefully your parents won’t think the same of me.”

“My parents will love you,” Merlin assured him. “My mum likes almost everyone, and you’re my Sword. She’ll want to adopt you, and whatever she wants, my dad gets her.”

Arthur smiled at that, but then frowned. “Have you messaged your parents?”

Merlin’s eyes widened. “Mum is going to kill me!” He immediately pulled his tablet out of his pocket and started writing a message to her, knowing that tonight of all nights she would be up waiting for his message, as would his father, though Balinor would claim it was only to be company for Hunith.

“I somehow think she’ll be too happy for you for that to happen, but if it does, I’ll sit on her,” Arthur promised.

Merlin grinned at him. “At least she won’t turn anything of yours pink. Hmm.” He tapped the stylus thoughtfully against the tablet. “I can’t decide whether to tell her you’re the prince or not. It doesn’t really matter to our pairing, but what if she thinks it’s important and gets mad at me for not mentioning it?”

“That’s something you’ll have to decide, or would you rather I add a note to yours?”

“I’d better tell her,” Merlin decided, adding a quick note. “But yes, it would be nice if you wrote to her as well, an introduction of sorts.”

“I’d be glad to; let me know when you’re done—and telling me your parents’ names might helpful.”

Merlin passed his tablet over. “Their names are Hunith and Balinor.”

“I’m not going to address them by their given names,” Arthur protested, looking aghast, and Merlin snickered.

“We’re not so formal, Arthur, but if you must, it’s Mistress Emrys.” He hesitated and added, “Dragonlord Balinor is the proper formal address for my dad.”

Arthur’s eyebrows rose slightly before he nodded his thanks and penned a short addendum to Merlin’s note, doing his best to curb his curiosity and not read what Merlin had written. “Here you are,” he said, handing the tablet and stylus back and leaning back on the cushions.

Merlin thanked him and sent the message, but he didn’t put the tablet away. “I’m sure she’ll write back if she’s still up, and she’s probably been waiting for me to message her.” He glanced over at Arthur. “You realize we’re going to have to visit once we’re finished training, before we get our first assignment, don’t you?”

“Where are they living?” Arthur asked, sounding somewhat amused at Merlin’s tacit order.

“In Ealdor, that’s where I’m from. I kept trying to get them to move closer, but Mum said she’d lived in Ealdor all her life and saw no reason to change that.”

“Understandable,” Arthur nodded, rubbing his hand over his chin to mask a yawn. “It must have been quite the change for you then, coming from Ealdor to Camelot, I mean.”

“It was, but I loved it. And Gaius, Ambrosius and Morgana all made me feel at home here. Of course, things are much better now.”

Arthur’s smile was small, but genuine. “I’m glad you think so.”

Merlin reached over to take his hand. “I’ve been waiting for you all my life, Arthur. How could I not?”

“I don’t quite think that was going through your mind when you found out who my father was,” Arthur pointed out as he squeezed the younger man’s fingers.

“Well, no, I really didn’t expect _that_ ,” Merlin admitted with a soft laugh. “I mean I knew you were a Sword, but I don’t think anyone ever imagined being paired with you.”

“No, I can’t imagine they would,” Arthur murmured.

“I’m glad though,” Merlin said almost shyly. “Now that I’ve met you, I can’t imagine being paired with anyone else.”

Arthur nodded at that and slowly released Merlin’s hand though he smiled. “I’m looking forward to learning to work together.”

“Me too,” Merlin admitted. “I think we’re going to work very well together.”

“We’d better; we have a reputation to uphold.”

“That whole business of the strongest Flare and best Sword of our generation, you mean? Yes, we’re going to get more than our fair share of attention, I’m sure.”

“I believe Morgana pointed out that you were the strongest Flare _ever_ ,” Arthur pointed out. “I believe I’m going to have quite the time with you.”

“Yes, well, I try not to think about that too much. It’s... odd.”

“Odd?” Arthur asked, his head tilting in confusion as he studied the younger man. “Why would you call it that? Most people would love to have that kind of power.”

“Most people are rather disturbing,” Merlin replied. “If I were to decide to do something horrible, who could stop me? People tend to be afraid of me if they think about it.”

“Then they obviously haven’t gotten to know you if they think that,” Arthur said firmly.

Merlin beamed at him. “I’m glad you think so.”

“There are times I find myself in the same circumstances, if not for the same cause,” Arthur admitted, his gaze dropping from Merlin’s face to the tablet in his hand which was glowing softly. “And I believe your mother has answered you.”

Merlin immediately read the message and grinned. “We’ve both been ‘invited’ to visit as soon we’re done training. And I strongly suggest accepting the invitation unless we’re planning to leave Albion and never return.”

“I do believe that your mother scares me more than the decor of our rooms did,” Arthur mused thoughtfully.

“Thereby proving that you’ve brains as well as brawn,” Merlin laughed. “Since you’ve no mother of your own, Crown Prince or no, I’m sure my mum will decide to adopt you.”

“That fact worries me even more.”

“I promise to protect you... though I should probably mention that Mum _thinks_ she’s a great cook.”

Arthur blanched, and Merlin snickered.

“It’s only for special occasions, like welcoming us. Otherwise, we have a very good cook,” Merlin said soothingly. “And for that night, the pub in the village is good. We just have to sneak out after she’s asleep.”

“Just how soundly does your mother sleep?”

“Soundly enough,” Merlin chuckled. “You’ll survive.”

“Shall I remind you of those words when next we see my father?”

Merlin whimpered, making it Arthur’s turn to chuckle. “You’ll be fine—we both will, that is if we get some sleep because I have the feeling that tomorrow is going to be anything but easy.”

Now Merlin groaned as he nodded. “I got enough attention from Gaius because of how powerful I am. Paired with the best Sword of our generation, I think we’re going to get personal attention from him, Ambrosius _and_ Proctor Lancelot.”

“Which will make us all the more prepared for our first mission.” Arthur didn’t voice the worry he had that, given his birth, they _wouldn’t_ be allowed to go into the field.

Merlin heard something off in Arthur’s tone, and he regarded his pair-mate intently. “Yes, it will. And considering our powers, we’re going to be sent after the worst things, so we’re going to need that preparation.”

Arthur’s lips quirked upward, and he nodded at that. “Of course we may not be glad of it tomorrow night; in fact, we may not be able to move. Did you happen to notice if there was a bath off our rooms?”

“Yes... and hopefully I won’t have to redecorate in there too.”

“There might be more cherubs spouting water...” Arthur suggested as he stood and yawned.

Merlin shuddered. “Maybe I’ll wait till morning to look.”

“That’s possibly for the best,” Arthur nodded as he picked up his jacket and folded it over his arm. “Get some rest, Pair-mate; morning’s going to come early.”

“I hate mornings,” Merlin groaned, pushing to his feet. “Someday, I’m going to be able to sleep in.”

“Perhaps someday, but not tomorrow,” Arthur mused as he walked toward his room. “Good night, Merlin.”

“Good night, Arthur.” Merlin watched his Sword vanish into his bedroom, and then Merlin let himself into his own, knowing that Arthur was right and that morning would come very soon.

~*~

The first light of morning found Arthur in the middle of the center room, performing a series of exercises that he had learned over a decade before. Pieces of furniture had been pushed back out of the way, and the prince was bare-chested as he worked through stretching and limbering exercises, his breathing deep but even as a sheen of sweat covered his body.

Merlin came out of his room, yawning and stretching, and he stopped dead at the sight that met his eyes. He’d always expected that his pair-mate would be a woman, but he couldn’t imagine anyone looking more appealing than Arthur did just then. He swallowed hard, watching Arthur but not speaking yet, not wanting to interrupt.

In time Arthur half turned, and spying Merlin, he offered a smile. “Did you sleep well?”

“Wonderfully,” Merlin replied. “And you?” He made his way across to the serving area where he poured himself a cup of tea and held one up to Arthur, his eyebrows raised inquiringly.

“Very well,” Arthur said as he straightened and nodded. “And yes, thank you.” He walked over to where Merlin stood and took the cup the other man had poured him, sighing in pleasure as he took a sip and tasted his favorite brew.

“Did you want to have breakfast here or down in the common room?” Merlin asked, stifling another yawn.

“It’s our first morning here; I would think we should go down,” Arthur observed though his lips twitched as he fought a grin. “You look as if you have a cat sleeping on your head; a hairbrush might be in order before we eat.”

Merlin stuck his tongue out. “It’s early,” he grumbled. “I’d want to dress too.”

“Yes, a nightshirt is somewhat casual even for our surroundings.”

“Ha ha.” Merlin drank more of his tea. “I suppose we should wear training leathers today; I have a feeling it’s going to make everything up to now look like a holiday. Although they say that we should be stronger together than we were on our own.”

“It will be interesting to find out how that manifests,” Arthur said before he drained his tea and set the cup down on the tray. “So let’s go get dressed so we can see what that is?” Unable to resist, he reached out and ruffled Merlin’s already messy hair before leaping back out of the way of his retaliatory swing.

“Prat,” Merlin sighed, setting his cup down and then tossing a cushion at Arthur, who blocked it with negligent ease before sending it whipping back at the younger man. Merlin yelped and ducked.

“Hey, no fair using your gifts!” At the same moment a cushion behind Arthur flew up and hit him in the back of the head.

“As if you’re one to talk!” Arthur exclaimed, catching the cushion before it fell to the floor then looking at it thoughtfully. “Interesting, I believe I felt the spell that you used.”

“Really?” Merlin looked intrigued as he moved to Arthur’s side, and after a moment the cushion rose from Arthur’s hand to hang in the air, slowly rotating. “Do you feel anything now?”

“Yes,” Arthur nodded slowly, his gaze moving from the cushion to Merlin’s face, “I definitely felt that—quite interesting in fact. I’d say we should experiment some more, but if we don’t get down to the common room, someone is going to come and drag us out of here by our ears.”

“And mine make far too good a handle,” Merlin replied wryly before breaking into a grin. “Let’s get cleaned up and dressed then, and we can go down for breakfast. Perhaps experimenting will be part of our training.”

“Somehow I’m sure it will be,” Arthur nodded as he disappeared into his bedroom, emerging a short time later in his black and red leathers, his white shirt gleaming against the dark, supple uniform.

Merlin joined him after a few minutes, dressed in matching black and blue leathers, their entwined symbols embroidered on the breast. “Ready?” he asked, the question punctuated by a growl from his stomach.

“If I wasn’t, I’d be worried that you’d begin to chew on my arm or leg,” Arthur commented as he belted on his sword and crossed to the door, pulling it open and holding it for his Flare.

“I promise not to eat you unless there’s no other choice,” Merlin assured him, the gravity of his tone belied by the mischief sparkling in his eyes.

“Your kindness and thoughtfulness is duly noted,” Arthur snorted as they left their rooms and strode down the corridor, relying on his memory of their cursory tour the prior evening to lead them to the dining hall.

“Of course, if we get lost, that would be grounds for making a meal of you in lieu of any other food.”

Arthur looked over at him, his brows rising. “You would have to catch me first.”

“Magic,” Merlin reminded him, grinning.

“Should be able to dodge it if I can feel it coming,” Arthur shot back smugly.

Merlin stopped and stared at him. “Hmm, that could be interesting. We’ll have to try it and see. _After_ breakfast.”

“You know, I’m beginning to believe that Gwen and Morgana’s second description of you is the correct one,” Arthur mused as they reached the main corridor and followed it to the open double doors at the end that revealed the dining hall.

“And what was that again?” Merlin asked, his memories of the previous night somewhat fuzzy.

“The description of the Flare who will eat his way through my inheritance rather than the one who doesn’t eat anything at all.”

“Ah, that.” Merlin flashed a smile. “I’ve been known to forget to eat when I get intent on a spell, but the rest of the time, I enjoy my food.”

“Hrmm, sounds like me when I’m training; I suppose we’ll have to make sure that only one of us is distracted at a time.”

“Yes, otherwise, Morgana and Gwen might take us in hand,” Merlin said with an exaggerated shudder.

“Gods forbid,” Arthur agreed as he steered Merlin toward the buffet so they could both fill their plates.

“Fortunately, it doesn’t seem to be a problem,” Merlin said as they both heaped food on their plates.

“Any preference?” Arthur asked, aware of the surreptitious and other not so subtle gazes on them.

“Behind a shield,” Merlin muttered before sighing. “Over by the window? I like sunshine.”

Arthur nodded, and they started toward the indicated seats. “We’d best enjoy it while we can; winter will be on us soon enough.”

“Don’t remind me,” Merlin groaned. “I hate the cold.”

“Out slogging through the snow to some remote town to find out that there was no reason to be there in the first place,” Arthur chuckled as they sat.

“Oh wonderful, my Sword’s a sadist,” Merlin moaned.

“It’s good for you,” Arthur promised before tucking into his meal.

“I think I hate you right now.”

“Be that as it may, you’re stuck with me now, and I recall you gushing about how wonderful I was last night...”

“I was impaired by too much drink.”

“It _was_ quite amusing,” Arthur smirked as he speared a sausage and bit into it.

“You are _such_ a prat!”

Arthur’s eyebrows rose again. “And your point is?”

“Lord and Lady, I must have done something horrible in a past life!”

“You’ll feel better after you eat,” Arthur promised.

Merlin snorted, but he did dig into his food, enjoying every bite and knowing that he was likely to need the fuel before the day’s training was over. Arthur did the same, and in a short time they leaned back in their chairs, their plates empty and their hunger assuaged for the moment.

“I really don’t like not knowing what is going on,” Arthur commented, growing serious as he looked around the hall. “Some kind of schedule would have been helpful.”

“But where would be the fun in that?” Morgana asked as she and Gwen stopped beside their table.

Merlin stared at them. “Oh. Are you our instructors?”

Morgana only smiled mysteriously—at least until Gwen poked her in the side. “Remember how we were our first day, and be nice.”

“You are our instructors,” Arthur groaned.

“That’s brilliant,” Merlin exclaimed with a sunny smile that had Arthur staring at him as if he’d run mad.

“You’ll have others as well, but we’ll start you out right,” Gwen promised.

“We couldn’t ask for better,” Merlin said happily. “Though no matter what you do, I’m not going to become a seer,” he said to Morgana with a grin.

“Which is probably for the best; if you had known the future, I would have told you to stay away last night,” she smiled sweetly.

“Pardon me?” Arthur sputtered.

“I’m very happy with my pair-mate,” Merlin stated loyally. “Be nice, Morgana. I’m not going to be the bone in the middle between you two.”

“Be nice, Morgana,” Gwen repeated, looking at the taller woman sternly.

“Holidays are going to be interesting,” Merlin sighed.

“Perhaps we should begin our work?” Arthur suggested.

Merlin finished the last of his tea and got to his feet, waiting for Arthur to join him before stepping away from the table, the Pair walking alongside Gwen and Morgana as they headed out of the dining hall.

“So exactly what are we working on today?” Arthur asked, “Or are you allowed to tell us?”

“It would rather difficult to train you if you didn’t know what we were doing,” Gwen pointed out. “We’ll be working on your bond, testing its strength and how it’s affected each of you.”

“Oh good, exactly what we hoped for,” Merlin said. “We already noticed that Arthur can feel magic now, at least mine.”

“Really?” Morgana asked, looking impressed. “That’s an excellent start then.”

“What about you, Merlin?” Gwen asked. “Have you noticed anything?”

“It’s not as if I’ve tried swinging a sword about this morning,” Merlin replied. “Though I’m guessing you’ll be testing that too,” he sighed. “Please try not to kill me.”

“Are you speaking to them or to me?” Arthur asked, sounding somewhat amused.

“You or Gwen, whoever starts whacking at me with a sword.”

“We’ll go easy on you, Merlin,” Gwen promised, patting his arm. “For today at least.”

Merlin moaned pitifully, and Morgana laughed. “I know exactly how you feel, but trust me, it’s worth it in the end.”

“And don’t you feel as if you’re getting off easy,” Gwen warned Arthur. “You’ll have a lot to learn too.”

“Oh, I never doubted it for a moment,” Arthur assured her, giving Merlin a wry grin.

“So I get to throw fireballs at you?” Merlin asked cheerfully.

“Only if I get to throw daggers back at you.”

Gwen and Morgana only smiled, and Arthur sighed at the confirmation.

“I think we should throw both at our trainers instead,” Merlin suggested dryly.

“Hrmm, I do believe I like that idea.”

“Just remember we’ll toss things back at you,” Morgana told them.

“Strongest Flare ever,” Merlin reminded her smugly, making both women smile since he’d never been comfortable enough with that status to joke about it before.

“Best Sword of his generation,” Arthur added, slinging a companionable arm around Merlin’s shoulders.

“And neither of you have worked together before,” Gwen reminded them.

“I’m willing to bet we figure it out quickly,” Merlin replied, unconsciously leaning into Arthur.

“And once you do, you’ll be the Magister’s and the Proctor’s problem,” Morgana laughed.

“Is it too late to run away?” Merlin groaned.

“They’d just find us,” Arthur reminded him.

“Sadly true,” Merlin sighed. “Well, let’s go start our training. Soonest started, soonest ended, and then we can be off to our first assignment.”

“A very good answer, Flare Merlin,” Gwen smiled up at him. 

“So welcome to the training room,” Morgana added, pushing open another set of double doors and leading them into a large room that looked like a combination gymnasium and laboratory.

Merlin looked around curiously before raising an inquisitive eyebrow at the women. “So how exactly do we begin?”

“Show us how you think you should work together, and we’ll go from there.”

“Against what kind of attack?” Arthur asked, looking around them, then back at the two women.

“Purely physical to start with,” Gwen said, drawing her sword and swinging at Merlin in a single motion. Merlin gasped and ducked away, his reflexes much faster than they had been before his pairing, and he raised a hand to throw an attack, but Arthur was already there, his sword ringing against Gwen’s, twisting the attack away before going on the offensive against her, driving her away from Merlin and back toward Morgana, who had drawn her own slim blade.

Seeing that, Merlin drew his own blade and moved between Arthur and Morgana, counting on their already instinctual awareness of one another to prevent Arthur stumbling over him. “Two against one isn’t very fair, Morgana.”

“Nor was it meant to be,” she replied smoothly. “What you meet on the road is more often than not unfair, isn’t that right, Gwen?”

“Very much so,” Gwen agreed, moving toward Morgana and Merlin only to have Arthur interpose himself and move her away.

“I never said that wasn’t the case,” Merlin pointed out. “But I have no intention of standing about wringing my hands while two swordsmen attack _my_ Sword.”

“A fact that’s very much appreciated,” Arthur offered between exchanges of blows with Gwen. “Though they did say that life was unfair...” He spared Merlin a glance from the corner of his eye and winked.

A moment later Gwen found herself frozen in place, as did Morgana, and Merlin moved to Arthur’s side. “A very good point, Pair-mate.”

Arthur reached out, plucked Gwen’s sword from her hand, and slid it away from her before doing the same with Morgana’s blade. “Why thank you, Merlin, and that was quite the nice spell as well.”

“It’s something I’ve always been able to do, even before I learned spells,” Merlin told him. “Although I had to learn how to make it selective. It used to freeze everything around me.”

“That must have caused quite the problem,” Arthur mused, for the moment, ignoring the glares that Morgana and Gwen were giving them. “I’m glad to see that you resolved that issue.”

“Do you think we should run away before I release them?” Merlin asked, only half joking.

“Some space between us might be prudent,” Arthur mused, keeping his sword in hand as he guided Merlin to the opposite side of the room, taking the other pairing’s weapons with him.

“Well, they wanted to see what we could do, so we were only doing what they told us,” Merlin said, taking a deep breath and then releasing the two women.

“And we distinctly said physical only,” Morgana said sharply.

“You wanted to see what we could do together,” Arthur argued back.

“Actually, you said that the attack would be purely physical,” Merlin pointed out. “In a real attack, we’d use everything we have, not just physical means simply because our attackers hadn’t used magic... yet.”

“Much as I hate to admit it, he has a point,” Gwen said.

Morgana gave a delicate huff before conceding the point, and Arthur grinned.

“So let me guess, magical attacks are next?”

“For that, we’ll need to recruit some help since no single Flare is going to challenge Merlin, especially not when he’s waiting for the attack,” Morgana said.

“Oh lovely, we’re back to the ganging up, but on me this time,” Merlin sighed. He suddenly whirled around, his eyes flaring gold as he flung up a shield, blocking the ice spears flying toward him.

Arthur spun a fraction of a second behind Merlin, flinging a dagger in the direction of the doorway, his eyes widening fractionally as he recognized Gaius and Ambrosius standing there, the Sword’s blade ringing clear of its sheath to knock aside the blade.

“No point in asking how their training is going, is there?” he snorted.

“They’re already more in tune after a few hours than Gwen and I were after a month,” Morgana reported. “Apparently neither is willing to be less than extraordinary at anything.”

“It’s what we do,” Merlin said.

“Would you rather we had a different reaction?” Arthur added, though it was clear he was proud of his cousin’s comment.

“No, I just feel sorry for all future Swords, Flares, and Pairs who have to try to live up to the legend of Merlin and Arthur,” Morgana replied dryly.

“And you should.”

Ambrosius cleared his throat and looked at Gaius. “If you don’t put a halt to this, they may go on all day.”

“I am eternally grateful that one is a Sword and the other a Flare as I might have been driven to murder if they’d been in the same academy for the last few years,” Gaius said dryly.

“And I would have helped you hide the bodies,” Ambrosius assured him.

“Oh, that’s nice, that,” Merlin exclaimed, trying to look insulted though he couldn’t help but agree, if only to himself, that Arthur and Morgana together in large doses might drive anyone to murder. “You’re supposed to be training us, not murdering us in our beds.”

Ambrosius turned a level gaze at the young Flare. “It’s a near thing at times.”

“I think I’m glad of a Sword of my own to protect me,” Merlin chuckled.

“Not to say I wouldn’t, but I think you can protect yourself quite well,” Arthur assured him.

“True enough, but there’s something very comforting about a yard of sharpened steel in the hands of a man on your side.”

“Or a woman,” Morgana put in with a fond look at Gwen.

“Or a woman,” Merlin agreed with a nod. “Swords really are quite brilliant, aren’t they?”

“As much as I agree, this isn’t place to indulge in a Sword admiration society,” Gaius chuckled. “Since it seems that our newest pairing needs a bit more of a challenge, we’ll provide it.”

“I wish you luck with that,” Morgana said. “Someday we’ll find something to challenge them—Wait, what am I saying? I hope we never find such a thing!”

“Perhaps we should just hope to tire them out some,” Gwen offered.

“An excellent goal,” Ambrosius agreed. “And one which we shall do our utmost to fulfill.”

“Oh, that doesn’t sound good,” Merlin said.


	2. Chapter 2

Many hours later, Arthur looked over at Merlin from where he was collapsed against one of the training room’s walls. The prince looked exhausted, but he was grinning. “That was brilliant,” he panted. “We were brilliant.”

“Yes, we are,” Merlin agreed, grinning despite his own exhaustion. “Just imagine how much better we’ll get with time.”

“I think that question worries the Magister and the Proctor,” Arthur breathed, letting his head fall back against the wall as he spoke.

“You may be right,” Merlin mused. “I suppose it’s a good thing neither of us has any desire to rule the world.”

“Speak for yourself,” Arthur chuckled.

“Oh, you just want to rule Albion,” Merlin said airily, trying to wave a hand but too tired to manage it. “You’re supposed to do that.”

Arthur sobered at that and reached up to swipe his forearm over his brow. “Not for a long while, I hope.”

“No, of course not. Your father’s a healthy man in the prime of life. We have years of being able to work as a Pair before we need to worry about crowns or thrones.”

Arthur murmured his assent though he knew it wasn’t going to be quite like that. He had to wonder if this was quite fair to Merlin, but he also knew he didn’t want to give up the other man as his pair-mate, even if it was possible, which it wasn’t.

After a moment, Merlin rolled his head on the wall so he was looking at Arthur. “Thank you for not spoiling my happy little illusion of non-involvement in royal duties,” he said with a sigh. “I’m really not ready to think about that yet.”

“Then don’t; it shouldn’t concern you right now; we’ve got enough to work on without you dealing with that side of my life.”

Merlin smiled wearily. “At the risk of giving you a big head, I really can’t imagine being paired with anyone but you.”

“Which is a good thing because—as I quote you saying yesterday evening—my dragon is tangled in your tree,” Arthur observed with a low laugh.

Merlin groaned. “Can’t we forget everything I said after the first glass of wine last night?”

“No, I rather think not.”

“You are a cruel, cruel man, Arthur Pendragon.”

“You’ll learn to love me,” Arthur promised as he slowly climbed to his feet and walked over to Merlin to give him a hand up. “Now come on, you can even use the bath first.”

“A bath,” Merlin repeated almost prayerfully. “Hot water to soak all the aches out. For that, I’m willing to move.” He took a tentative step and was pleased to find that the brief respite had all but eliminated the wobbliness he’d been feeling just before the end of the training session. “I really hope the four of them are as tired as we are.”

“Morgana _was_ limping, and Gwen looked as if she would have liked to sit down...” Arthur mused as he slid an arm around Merlin’s waist to support him.

“Good!” Merlin said without the slightest sympathy. “Maybe tomorrow will be a little less active.”

“Or else they’ll send someone else in to go after us.”

Merlin cast Arthur a truly baleful look that had the blond chuckling. “We might have the honor of trouncing every other Pair in residence by the time we get sent out.”

“Oh lovely, something to look forward to. You may end up carrying me back to our chambers eventually.”

“If and when I do, I promise not to drop you.”

“You’re too good to me. But I’m not letting you go back on your offer to let me have the bath first.”

“Did I say I was trying to do that?” Arthur asked, sounding offended.

“No, no,” Merlin said hastily to sooth his pair-mate’s wounded pride. “I was simply making sure you knew that one had nothing to do with the other.”

Arthur looked at him strangely at that. “Of course I do, though keep it up and I’m going to get into the bath first out of spite.”

“Ha! You promised me the first bath, and I’m going to have it if I have to get in with you!” Merlin retorted.

“Oh, now there’s a threat that terrifies me,” Arthur snorted as they reached their rooms, the door swinging open when he placed his palm against the etched faceplate.

“Don’t think I wouldn’t do it.”

“I’m sure you would, but I have more decorum, so I’ll let you have your bath unmolested—provided you don’t dawdle.”

Already making his way to the bathroom, Merlin tossed a smirk over his shoulder. “Baths are meant to be savored.”

“I take back what I said about carrying you if you need it!” Arthur shouted after him as he hung up his sword belt then collapsed on the sofa.

Merlin’s laughter floated out to the Sword, followed shortly after by the sound of splashing and a blissful sigh. “For this alone, I think I love you,” he called.

“Gloating will get you nothing!”

“I _have_ the bath.”

Arthur glowered in the general direction of the door. “And you’d have a pitcher of cold water if I felt like getting up!”

More laughter floated out. “Oh, come in here, Arthur. This bath is big enough for a small village. I think we can safely share it.”

“I don’t believe those in small villages bathe that often,” Arthur observed though he appeared at the door connecting the bath to his room dressed only in a robe an exceedingly short time after he spoke.

“Here now, _I’m_ from a small village,” Merlin protested.

“And you’ve been in Camelot for six years,” Arthur pointed out though he was grinning as he doffed his robe and climbed into the tub opposite from Merlin, sighing in pleasure as the heat from the water seeped into his sore muscles.

“Prat!” Merlin splashed him.

“Idiot,” Arthur sputtered, shaking his head to clear the water from his eyes.

“You deserved that, Prince Arthur.”

“And you deserve this,” Arthur answered before splashing a wave of water in Merlin’s direction.

Merlin only laughed, his dark hair plastered to his head like a sealskin, and merriment dancing in the bright blue eyes. “You can do that again in a bit after I wash my hair.”

“And hopefully the soap will get in your mouth when I do,” Arthur chuckled before he ducked his head under the water, his feet brushing up against Merlin’s leg as he did so.

“Prat,” Merlin said again, but his tone and gaze were fond. He shook his head with a smile and then began to wash his hair, intent on ridding himself of the sweaty, sticky feel of it.

Arthur stretched his out along the tub’s rim, soaking and looking amused as he watched Merlin clean himself. “I wonder if they’ll take pity on us and bring trays here for our evening meal.”

“Oh, that would be lovely,” Merlin exclaimed. “I don’t even want to think about dressing and going back downstairs.”

“If nothing else, I can have something brought over from the palace,” Arthur suggested.

“I can see that this prince business could be useful. But let’s try not to flaunt privilege unless we have to,” Merlin decided. “Let’s see if they’ll send something up from the hall’s kitchen first.”

“And since you got in the bath first, you can get out first and see if they will.”

Merlin moaned pitifully, and Arthur shook his head. “I see I’m going to have to do everything...”

“Just for now,” Merlin said hopefully. “I’m not sure I _can_ move.”

“I think you’re going to have to take part in my calisthenics in the mornings,” Arthur observed as he soaped up, then rinsed himself off.

Merlin groaned, wanting to protest, but it did make sense. He had no intention of being a burden to his Sword. “Couldn’t you just kill me now instead?” he suggested.

Arthur shook his head at that, his blue eyes going flinty. “No, not now, not ever.”

“Sorry, bad joke,” Merlin said apologetically.

Arthur sighed at that and rubbed a wet hand over his forehead. “I suppose Gwen was correct.”

Merlin frowned, not following. “About what?”

“About newly paired Swords being over-protective,” Arthur explained wryly. “Could you do me a kindness and not mention your dying again?”

“I’ll make a note of it. And I’d appreciate that you not die on me either.”

“I’ll do my very best,” Arthur promised. “Why don’t you soak; I’ll see what I can do about getting our meal brought here.”

“You are my very favorite person right now.”

“I’m your pair-mate; I should always be your favorite person,” Arthur laughed as he stood and climbed out of the tub, the water sheeting down his fair skin as he reached for one of the thick towels that were embroidered with their entwined marks.

Merlin’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of his pair-mate’s nude form. If he’d ever seen a more perfect man, he didn’t know when, and he suddenly realized that sharing a bath with Arthur might not be the best idea he’d ever had. “If you were always my favorite person, you’d be too smug to live with,” he finally replied.

“I’m your pair-mate; I’ll always be your favorite person,” Arthur said, ignoring the fact that his tone _was_ slightly smug.

“Make sure you get wine with that meal,” Merlin groaned. “I’m going to need it!”

“No wine for you!” Arthur exclaimed as he belted on his robe and swept into his own room, the door closing between them doing nothing to muffle his laughter.

“Prat!” Merlin yelled after him, although he was laughing as he did.

~*~

When Merlin finally emerged from his room, Arthur was settled in one of the wing-back chairs, sipping a glass of wine while reading the evening newspaper. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d fallen asleep in there,” he chuckled. “Our meal should be here soon.”

“I was comfortable,” Merlin replied, moving to the chair opposite his pair-mate and sitting down. He cast an amused glance at the teapot and cup sitting on the table between them. “I have had wine before, you know, with no ill effects. I simply hadn’t eaten yesterday.”

“And you haven’t eaten since our nooning today, so you can wait until the food gets here.”

Merlin’s eyebrows shot up. “Yes, Mum.”

“Unless you’d rather that I have more ammunition aside from you going on about how adorable our marks were entwined together,” Arthur snorted.

The teapot rose from the table to hover threateningly over Arthur’s head, the Sword looking patently unimpressed though he smirked. “They look soooo darling,” he crooned.

Merlin glared. “Hate you,” he grumbled, bringing the teapot back to the table and pouring himself a cup, smiling when he found that it was his favorite blend.

“No, you don’t; I ordered us our meal,” Arthur said sunnily. “Care to read some of the paper?”

Merlin grumbled some more before finally picking up a section of the paper and starting to read, both of them sinking into companionable silence as they waited for their meal to arrive.

A knock sounded at the door before the next chiming of the hour, and Arthur glanced over at Merlin. “I called down for it...”

Chuckling, Merlin got to his feet. “So I’ll answer the door and let them bring it in. Don’t disturb yourself, Pair-mate.”

It was the work of moments for one of the kitchen staff to arrange the meal on the small table at one side of the room and depart again, leaving the pair-mates to their well-earned meal.

“Mmm, that smells good,” Merlin sighed, lifting one of the covers over the dishes and inhaling appreciatively.

“Yes, it does,” Arthur nodded, having walked over to lean in over Merlin to inhale the aroma. “Thank the gods that they feed us well here.”

Merlin grinned over his shoulder. “And gods help us when we have to provide for ourselves. I’d best find some food preparation spells.”

“Please do,” Arthur begged as he straightened and moved to sit opposite where Merlin was standing. “If you don’t, we both might never reach our first assignment.”

Laughing, Merlin sat down as well. “You may have to appeal to your father for a personal cook.”

“Oh yes, I can just imagine some dunderhead toddling along after us on a donkey, his pots and pans clanging to announce our presence.”

Merlin burst into peals of laughter, picturing that. “Oh, Lord and Lady, that might scare off any foes by itself,” he gasped out when he could speak again.

Arthur snickered as he served himself then passed the dishes over to Merlin, waiting until his pair-mate’s plate was full before beginning to eat. “Of course, it might attract magical creatures.”

Merlin shuddered. “Oh, please don’t say that. I have a horrible feeling that we’re going to see more than our fair share of those. All the instructors were simply _gleeful_ at the thought of someone of my strength going up against the magical beasties.”

Arthur swallowed the bite of capon he was chewing and pointed his fork at Merlin. “So do you think I should take up knitting or crochet to keep myself occupied while you fight the beasties?”

“Ha! You will be chopping and impaling while I’m using spells,” Merlin informed him. “I’d rather not be eaten before we can deal with whatever it may be.”

“Chopping and impaling?” Arthur sputtered.

“That’s what you do with that sword of yours, isn’t it? Or I suppose you could try shooting them, but that usually doesn’t do much good against magical creatures.” Merlin gave him a mock innocent look.

Arthur raised his eyebrows as he grinned. “Only if you don’t bespell my bullets.”

Merlin paused in his eating, an arrested expression on his face. “That’s... a very interesting idea.”

“If you can do it to my swords and knives, why shouldn’t you be able to do it to the shot?” Arthur asked.

“I don’t think anyone’s ever considered it before. We always took it for granted that magic and anything beyond simple weapons didn’t mix, but there’s no real reason for that that I can see. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Brilliant,” Arthur beamed, winking as he poured Merlin a glass of wine. “I believe you’ve eaten enough now for this.”

Merlin stuck his tongue out. “I’m going to be hearing about that for the next twenty years, yeah?”

“At least fifty.”

“Prat!”

“You want us to only live for twenty more years?”

“You plan to remind me for the rest of our lives?!”

Arthur only smiled as he sipped his wine, and Merlin groaned.

“It’s a good thing I’m sure there will be many things I’ll be able to hold over you too.”

“Hardly, I’m perfect, as you’ll come to learn,” Arthur sniffed.

“Perfectly mad!”

“Pardon me?”

“You’re delusional.”

“Which means that you are as well since we paired together.”

Merlin gave him a narrow-eyed look. “Or I’m so well-balanced that I can make you seem sane.”

“Adorable entangled marks,” Arthur reminded him.

“That are going to be separated with a table knife if you keep it up!”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Yes!”

“You don’t scare me in the least.”

That made Merlin smile. “That makes you one of perhaps half a dozen people that I’ve ever met.”

“You call me a prat,” Arthur responded, returning the smile. “That makes you one of an even smaller number.”

“I find that very hard to believe.”

“To my face,” Arthur allowed with a glower.

“Ah, then it’s my duty to do it for all those who can’t.”

“You do realize that if you keep this up, I’m never going to order food for you again.”

Merlin gave him a mournful look, and Arthur waved a regal hand in his direction. “That is not going to work.”

Merlin ducked his head a little and gave Arthur a quick glance through his eyelashes, only to find himself with a pea bouncing off his nose. The Flare laughed and sat up straight. “It goes both ways; if you don’t order for me, I don’t order for you.”

Now it was Arthur’s turn to duck his head and glance up at Merlin through half-lidded eyes, making Merlin laugh. “As effective for you as it was for me,” he informed his Sword.

“I just wanted to point that out to you,” Arthur laughed.

“I didn’t know till I tried,” Merlin said with a grin. “Fortunately, my pair-mate’s not a fool.”

“And neither is mine, which we just proved, though it worked marvelously on my governess.”

“It never worked on my mother, unfortunately,” Merlin said mournfully. “But it works on Gwen and even Morgana sometimes.”

Arthur leaned forward at that, his eyes bright. “Then do feel free to keep using that look on them.”

“Oh, I intend to,” Merlin assured him. “But I wouldn’t suggest you try it. They don’t think of you as helpless the way they do me, all evidence to the contrary.”

“It’s quite amusing; they keep saying ‘strongest Flare ever,’ but then they treat you like that,” Arthur mused.

“I’d never dare say it where they could hear me, but I think I bring out the maternal in them.”

Arthur sniggered at the description and shook his head. “Maternal and those two are words that don’t go together in my mind.”

“Nor in mine, really, but that’s the way they act. It’s very odd, I can assure you.”

“If you didn’t think it was, I would be worried about your sanity.”

“I’ve often been tempted to bring them back to Ealdor and see what my mother might make of them, but I was afraid they might all gang up on me while my father fled into the night.”

“I’ll protect you if that ever happens,” Arthur promised him.

“I shall hold you to that! The meeting where I plan to hide behind you, however, is when my mother meets your father.”

“We’ll be hiding behind each other, I think!” Arthur shuddered before draining his wineglass and refilling it.

“I really don’t think they’re going to get on. And my mum’s not going to care that he’s the king if she decides to talk to him about his parenting,” Merlin warned, drinking more of his own wine.

“Why do you think there’s anything wrong with his parenting?” Arthur asked, his expression morphing into a frown.

“Arthur, I saw you both last night, albeit only briefly. And I’ve known Morgana for years.”

“And?” Arthur’s tone had cooled.

“And your father and my mother clearly have very different ideas of how to raise a son,” Merlin replied with a shrug, not wanting to argue.

Arthur took a long sip of his wine before shrugging. “I’m sure life in Ealdor is very different from Camelot.”

Merlin murmured something noncommittal before changing the subject. “How long do you think they’ll keep us here before sending us to our first assignment? Even Gaius said we already work like a Pair years bonded.”

“I wouldn’t go hoping that we’ll be sent out tomorrow,” Arthur mused. “Perhaps a month, perhaps a bit less.”

“I’ll bet you it’s less.”

“And what do you want to wager?”

“Dinner at a restaurant,” Merlin suggested. “I think it’ll be closer to two weeks when they send us out.”

“We have a wager,” Arthur smiled.

“Mmm, I’ll think about which restaurant I want to go to.”

“As will I,” Arthur smirked. “And it isn’t that I don’t have faith in us, either.”

Merlin gave him a narrow-eyed look. “Why do I think there’s something you’re not telling me, Pair-mate?”

Arthur’s blue eyes widened in innocence. “Would I hold back information from you?”

“Yes!”

“You were the one who brought up the idea of a wager,” Arthur pointed out. “Don’t blame me for possessing more intelligence than you in the matter.”

“I think intelligence might be something of a misnomer,” Merlin grumbled.

“Do you have formalwear?” Arthur asked, changing the subject and grinning at Merlin’s look of confusion.

“No, of course not. Although I think I saw dress uniforms in the wardrobe,” he added after a moment’s thought.

“Mmm, that might be acceptable; I’ll have to look them over and see,” Arthur mused.

“For what?” Merlin asked, bewildered.

“The ball to honor the ambassador from Aquitania; it’s in three weeks.”

Merlin glared. “You _knew_ they would keep us here till after that to appease the king! Prat!”

“ _You_ chose not to believe me,” Arthur pointed out easily.

“Oh, just you wait, Prince Arthur. When you least expect it...”

“I live in fear,” Arthur chuckled.

A small, dark cloud appeared over Arthur’s head, and after a moment it began to rain on him, causing the prince to jump and look up as his shirt slowly darkened and clung to his body while his bangs dripped into his eyes.

“I did already have a bath this evening,” he pointed out.

“I know,” Merlin replied calmly, taking a sip of his wine as it continued to rain on Arthur.

“And you’re watering down my wine.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want you to get drunk since I’m only allowed this one glass,” Merlin replied with sickly sweetness.

Arthur’s arch look was less than impressive given the water that was dripping from his nose and chin. “It takes more than one glass for that to happen.”

“There’s more than one glass left in the bottle,” Merlin retorted, banishing the cloud with a glance. The gold of his eyes flared brighter for a moment, and Arthur felt of surge of warmth that left him dry when it passed. The prince blinked, his eyes widened at the sensation, and he cleared his throat before shifting in his seat.

“Yes, there is, very true that,” he said hastily, pouring some of the wine into Merlin’s glass before rising to dump out the pinkish liquid left in his.

Merlin chuckled at Arthur’s speedy agreement. “Don’t worry, Arthur, your wine is safe from further watering.”

“You have my profound thanks.”

“My pair-mate’s comfort is my first concern.” Merlin gave him a beatific smile and saluted the Sword with his newly refilled goblet.

“If you were a cat, I’d say you’d just gotten into the cream,” Arthur sighed as he poured himself a second glass then sat.

Merlin chuckled. “Should I lick my whiskers?”

“If you make yourself grow a set, I might have to try to arrange for a photograph.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” Merlin informed him. “Though if you like them so much, I’m sure I could grow you a set.”

“Idiot,” Arthur chuckled, “drink your wine because I’m ready to collapse.”

After a bit, Merlin looked sidelong at his pair-mate. “Do I really have to go to that ball?”

“It’s something you’re going to have to get used to,” Arthur said, though his tone was understanding.

Merlin groaned. “I think I’d rather face some strange magical monster.”

“Well, you never know, one of those might be there as well.”

“I’d never be that lucky,” Merlin stated morosely.

“Oh come on, I’ll be there with you, and there will be wine,” Arthur cajoled.

“There had best be a _lot_ of wine,” Merlin sighed, knowing he’d go regardless, simply because Arthur wanted him to.

“Plus there might be some pretty young women to dance with—you do know how to dance, don’t you?”

“I know how, but I don’t particularly enjoy it when Gwen or Morgana make me. I always seem to stumble or step on my partner’s feet.”

“You seemed handy enough while we were practicing today.”

Merlin shrugged. “Dancing seems to bring out the worst in me. And women are just unnerving.”

Arthur snickered. “Considering you’ve been around Morgana, I can understand that sentiment.”

“She’s actually better than most. Though perhaps that’s simply that I’ve known her for so long,” Merlin mused.

Arthur shuddered. “I’ve known her since we were both practically infants, and I have to disagree.”

The Flare slouched in his chair, regarding his Sword with amusement. “I think you both regress to being infants when you’re around each other.”

“Honestly, she’s enough to put me off women forever,” Arthur laughed. “And to think that my father hoped we would pair—terrifying thought.”

Merlin almost choked on his wine as he burst into laughter. “Oh, Lady bless, I can’t imagine a surer recipe for disaster than the two of you paired. You’re not oil and water; you’re gunpowder and a spark!”

“She’s happily paired with Guinevere,” Arthur added dryly.

“And you’re paired with me, much better for all of us. Although...” Merlin paused to regard him closely. “You would have beautiful children, which I assume is what your father was thinking of.”

“My father has many years of life left, gods willing, and I have years before I need to worry about finding a wife,” Arthur assured them both.

Finding himself frowning, Merlin hastily smoothed his expression. “Yes, we can concentrate on our work... and the odd ball,” he added with a forced chuckle.

Arthur chuckled as he finished his wine, and, at Merlin’s questioning look, smiled more broadly. “Odd ball, that’s amusing.”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “Yes, Arthur, are you sure you’re not two?” He shook his head. 

“I’m older than you are.”

“You certainly don’t act it!”

“And would you rather I be staid and stodgy?”

A shudder wracked Merlin, and then he had to laugh, caught out. “No, of course not,” he admitted. “As much as you’re a prat, I still wouldn’t change you for any other Sword. We fit.”

Arthur nodded and leaned back in his chair. “I have to agree with you; while I never imagined a Pairing like ours, I can’t imagine feeling so right with anyone.”

“Exactly.” Merlin nodded his agreement. “Frankly, I expected a woman, but I don’t see how it could possibly have been this good with anyone else.”

“I’m going to remind you that you said that the next time you call me a prat.”

“You’re still a prat,” Merlin assured him.

“And I’m obviously your perfect match,” Arthur shot back.

“Yes, someone as perfect as I am obviously needed someone like you for balance so I wouldn’t be _too_ good.”

“I will remember this at the ball.”

“Unfair!”

“And why is that?”

“I only have to go because of you, so you have to be nice to me... and let me hide behind you when your father’s near.”

“Don’t hide from him; it will only make him come after you more,” Arthur said seriously.

Merlin groaned. “He’s going to find a way to put me in the stocks, even if he has to have some built to do it.”

“That won’t happen, you have my word.”

“I really hope not. I read about stocks; they sounded awful.”

“I’d say the constabulary’s cells are bad enough.”

“That sounded disturbingly like the voice of experience,” Merlin observed, regarding Arthur curiously.

“Hardly,” Arthur chuckled, “they took us down to the main station as part of our training.”

“Ah good, I was starting to wonder if I should worry,” Merlin said with an answering grin. “A larcenous pair-mate could become a problem.”

“I’m wounded,” Arthur sniffed, tilting his chair back on two legs and balancing it there, “that my pair-mate would think I was capable of that.”

“I think you’re entirely capable of it under the right circumstances,” Merlin assured him, eying the chair with amusement.

“And also smart enough not to get caught if I did do it.”

Merlin pondered that for a moment before nodding. “Yes, I would have to agree. So are we planning to run off and become criminal masterminds?”

“That might put a crimp in my becoming king someday,” Arthur mused, continuing to balance the chair on two legs.

“Possibly,” Merlin agreed. “I’m fairly certain that the other lords would frown on it at the very least.”

“Then I suppose we’ll have to do what we’ve been trained to do—protect the realm.”

“That’s probably best. Otherwise, they might send Morgana and Gwen after us.”

“Hardly, the crown has outlawed cruel and unusual punishment, and those two definitely fall under that realm.”

Merlin burst into laughter. “Even when you’re not in the same room, you and Morgana act like two-year-old siblings. No wonder Gwen wanted reinforcements.”

“Oh, so you think you can handle me, do you?” Arthur asked archly as he began to sway back and forth in the chair, the movements following a slow rhythm.

His eyes seemingly riveted on his pair-mate, Merlin replied, “I was born to handle you.”

“Oh really?” Arthur looked down at his wrist, the move causing him to lose his balance and topple over.

“Or possibly to heal your broken bones,” Merlin laughed, peering over the table at the Sword, who was rubbing the back of his head.

“I think I’d prefer the second.”

“And I’d prefer that you not break them yourself. It’s bad enough when enemies do it.” Merlin grinned down at him. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to do that?”

“I was testing my balance,” Arthur sniffed, slowly rolling to his feet.

“I’d say you failed the test.”

“You distracted me.”

“I don’t recall sitting on your wrist,” Merlin said dryly.

“Your tree is sitting there.”

Merlin stared at him. “I’m fairly certain it didn’t move to draw attention to itself.”

“Perhaps it did; perhaps it gyrated in a most distracting manner.”

Merlin stared some more.

“It’s a tree, Arthur, not a harem dancer.”

“And how do you know that?”

“How do I—How much wine did you have?” Merlin laughed. “You’re quite mad.”

“The madness has nothing to do with the wine.”

“I’m beginning to see that. Fortunately, I like a bit of madness in my friends. Oh, and for the record, your dragon is the one wrapped around my tree, so I think that makes you the harem dancer, not I!”

“Princes do not wear gauze.”

Merlin looked at him, and his eyes glazed over momentarily. “I’m sure you could carry it off,” he said.

“I’m beginning to wonder if you were the one to have hit his head. Perhaps we should get some sleep before this conversation turns even stranger.”

“I don’t think that’s possible... and if it is, I don’t want to know about it!” Despite his protest, Merlin got to his feet, yawning. “I wasn’t tired till you said that,” he grumbled.

“Is that why you’re moving like a little old man?”

Merlin’s eyes narrowed, and a small spark zapped Arthur’s ass, making the older man yelp, his hand going from his head to his singed rear. “That wasn’t funny!”

“Oh please, I’m sure you’ve had worse from scuffing your feet and touching something,” Merlin snorted. “And you bloody well deserved it. I’m not a little old man!”

“I didn’t say you were; I said you were moving like one,” Arthur huffed. “Goddess, you get cranky when you’re tired.”

“I. Am. Not. Cranky.” Each word was bitten out with absolute clarity of enunciation.

“Yes, Pair-mate, of course you aren’t,” Arthur snickered as he backed toward his bedroom, ducking behind the door before Merlin could fling something at him.


	3. Chapter 3

“Oh, please shoot me now,” Merlin moaned, finally leaving his bedchamber for the main room of their suite and meeting his pair-mate. “You don’t actually need me at this ball, do you?”

“Unless you would rather have the kingdom wondering if I killed my pair-mate already,” Arthur chuckled, looking up from where he was wiping a scuff off his boot and stopping talking as his eyes widened slightly before he blinked. “I say, Merlin, you do turn out well.”

“So do you, but that’s no surprise.” Merlin drank in the sight of his pair-mate in an outfit identical to his own, aside from the color of his waistcoat. The formalwear suited Arthur’s muscular physique, emphasizing the breadth of his shoulders and the length of his legs, and Merlin found himself turning his thoughts from inappropriate tangents.

“Hrmm, but there’s something missing,” Arthur mused as he straightened, his gaze staying on Merlin’s form as he slipped a hand into his pant pocket and walked toward his pair-mate.

“Missing?” Merlin sounded almost panicked as he looked down at himself. “I thought I had everything...”

“Hold still,” Arthur commanded, “and lift your chin.” When Merlin did as ordered, Arthur raised his hands to Merlin’s cravat, unpinning the simple blue stone that had pierced it and replacing it with a sizable chunk of amethyst.

“There, much better.”

Merlin moved over to a mirror to look at the new stickpin, and then he smiled over his shoulder at Arthur. “Thank you.”

It took a moment for Arthur to answer, and he cleared his throat before he answered. “Yes, well, you’re welcome. Did you eat anything, or do I have to keep you from the wine while we’re there?”

Merlin stuck his tongue out. “I had dinner, as you know very well since you were sitting next to me as we ate.”

“And that was over an hour ago,” Arthur pointed out with a chuckle.

“I’m not planning to eat constantly all night!”

“It would make dancing with a partner difficult; and now, if you’re ready, Pair-mate?”

Rolling his eyes, Merlin moved to Arthur’s side. “Yes, I’m ready. As ready as I’ll ever be. Are you sure we can’t flee the country instead?”

“Merlin...”

“I’ll take that as a no.” Merlin sighed and squared his shoulders. “Right, a ball.”

“I promise, the ladies will love you,” Arthur said grandly as they left their rooms and headed toward the main entrance where a coach waited to carry them to the palace.

“Is that supposed to make me feel _better_?” Merlin slumped into the seat in the carriage and groaned. “I hope you realize I plan to hide behind you whenever I’m not hiding behind Morgana.”

Arthur sighed and half-turned to study Merlin. “You are going to have a good time at this ball if I have to force it onto you, do you understand?”

“Yes, sire, whatever you say, sire.” Merlin made a face at him then found himself with his nose tweaked for his trouble. Merlin swatted Arthur’s hand away and tried to glare, but he found himself laughing instead.

“That’s better,” Arthur said, smirking in satisfaction before joining in the laughter.

“You really are a prat.”

“Possibly, but I’m the prat who is going to make sure that you have an entertaining time this evening.”

“Why does that sound like ‘have fun or spend time in the dungeon’ to me?” Merlin laughed.

Arthur only smirked, remaining quiet until they reached the palace and were standing near the head of the stairs down to the main ballroom. “Don’t forget to breathe,” he murmured as the footmen bowed.

“I really, really hate you!”

The doors were opened, revealing a room filled with the colors of ladies’ dresses as they whirled through the paces to the music being played by the orchestra situated in an alcove above.

“No, you don’t.”

Merlin whimpered and took a step backward, only to be caught by the hand that Arthur placed at the small of his back. “You can handle me, you can handle them,” he said quietly as they started down the stairs.

“But I like you,” Merlin muttered piteously.

“Not liking them makes them easier to handle,” Arthur promised as they reached the parquet floor.

“Easy for you to say, you’re the prince.”

“Once we’re out of training, you will be as well.”

Merlin cast him a horrified look. “I need a drink!”

As if by magic, a server with a tray of champagne glasses appeared by their side. Arthur took one but didn’t drink and waited for Merlin to down his before nodding toward the crowd. “Are you ready to be introduced?”

“If I say no, will you let me out of it?”

“No,” Arthur said cheerfully.

“Then I suppose I’m ready.”

“Then let’s have at it.” His champagne in one hand and the other still on the small of Merlin’s back, Arthur led him into the melee of introductions and conversation with Albion’s nobility.

Much to Merlin’s surprise, he found many of the nobles quite pleasant and enjoyable to talk to, and he allowed himself to be separated from Arthur after a bit. He was chatting with a lord from the eastern part of the kingdom when he noticed a blond woman talking to Arthur, her hand on his arm. His eyes narrowed, and he walked away from the group without a word, his eyes intent on the blond touching his Sword, but the other two turned and headed for the dance floor, the insipid blonde’s hand now nestled in the crook of Arthur’s elbow.

Merlin glared at the woman dancing with Arthur, but his attention was drawn away when Lady Freya, one of the nobles that he’d enjoyed speaking with, approached him and asked him to dance, clearly having grown tired of waiting for him to ask her.

The couple moved out to the dance floor and joined the waltzing Pairs, everything moving smoothly—at least until the crown prince caught sight of his pair-mate smiling at the young woman in his arms. Blue eyes grew flinty, and Lady Sophia gasped as his hand tightened on her waist.

Arthur came back to himself at the sound, and he released her, bowing. “My apologies, for both that and for cutting our dance short, but you must excuse me.” With that he left the dance floor, vanishing into one of the drawing rooms and shutting the door behind him, trying to get hold of himself and his temper before he did someone harm.

Merlin noticed Arthur leave Lady Sophia, and he smiled faintly before returning his attention to the woman in his arms.

“It seems that the idiots are finally beginning to see what’s under their noses,” Morgana observed to Gwen.

“We should hope that they discover each other before either of them hurts someone,” the shorter woman answered.

“Yes, I feared for Ladies Sophia and Freya for a time... not that either of them would be any great loss.”

“They aren’t all that bad, just products of their breeding.”

“Pretty and useless,” Morgana said dismissively.

“Not everyone was lucky enough to have your parents,” Gwen countered. “They have their place, and eventually they’ll realize it isn’t at the side of Arthur or Merlin.”

“Eventually had best come quickly, or Arthur or Merlin will make them wish they’d never been born, even if they’re both too moronic to realize they’re jealous.”

“Hopefully it will get better once they are released to an assignment.”

“We can only hope,” Morgana agreed, watching Merlin bow to Freya and return to his conversation with Sir William.

Arthur emerged from the drawing room a short time later and was relieved to see that Merlin was no longer on the dance floor, but before he could seek his Flare out, he was stopped by his father.

“I am pleased to see that you have not forgotten your duty, Arthur,” Uther said. “Lady Sophia is a fine woman.”

“As you and her parents have been telling me for several years, Father,” Arthur said tactfully.

“Her mother has borne four fine, healthy children,” Uther observed.

_ Each more vapid then the last, _ Arthur sighed to himself. “Which is commendable, but would it be fair to even announce a match when I am to be away from Camelot in the near future?”

“I am sure her family would not object. It is, after all, no small thing to be the betrothed of the Crown Prince of Albion.”

Merlin had been skulking through the crowd, trying to get past them to join Morgana and Guinevere, when he heard that, and he instantly forgot any fear of the king as he pushed to Arthur’s side. “Betrothed?” he demanded of his pair-mate, completely ignoring the king as his eyes flared golden.

Uther’s gaze flicked toward the lean youth, and he took an involuntary step back at the magic filling his eyes. “Yes, betrothed, Albion must have an heir.”

“Which it does,” Arthur pointed out as he laid a hand on Merlin’s arm, the power coursing through his pair-mate causing him to feel as if he were standing on top of a gigantic steam engine that was running at full speed.

“The once and future king shall have a queen and a beloved, but never shall the two be one,” Morgana intoned, then looked dazed as the gold faded from her eyes. “I really hate when that happens,” she muttered to Gwen, who supported her unobtrusively.

“That prophecy could be about any of Albion’s future rulers,” Uther argued.

Merlin’s eyes flared more brightly, causing several people to murmur and edge away from him, and he reached to cover Arthur’s hand on his arm with his own.

“Father, perhaps it would be best to discuss this at another time—after Merlin and I return from our first assignment, perhaps?” Arthur suggested, wanting to get Merlin away from the king before the Flare did him harm and the whole ball dissolved into chaos.

About to argue, Uther took another look at the Flare who was vibrating with leashed power, and suddenly he believed all the things Gaius had been telling him for years about this young man. “Yes, perhaps that would be best,” he agreed slowly. “You are still young to be worrying about the succession.” He managed not to flinch at the visible flare of power. “Be careful and be well, my son.”

“And you as well, Father.” Arthur bowed and led Merlin away from the king, nodding to Gwen and Morgana as they passed the other Pair. He hurried Merlin from the palace and into a carriage, breathing a sigh of relief when the door was closed behind them.

“Are you feeling more in control now?” he asked, noting that gold still colored his pair-mate’s eyes, somewhat in awe of this sustained display of power.

Merlin blushed and the gold of his eyes dimmed slightly but didn’t vanish completely as he realized what he had done. “I told you this was a bad idea,” he groaned.

“You seemed to be having a good time earlier.” Arthur’s tone flattened as he remembered Merlin laughing and dancing with Lady Freya.

Shrugging, Merlin said, “I suppose it wasn’t too bad. Sir William was interesting, at least.”

“Just Sir William?” Arthur took a deep breath and rubbed his forehead. “I told you that it wouldn’t be horrible.”

“At least I didn’t almost get betrothed,” Merlin muttered, looking annoyed again.

“I didn’t get almost betrothed,” Arthur protested. “This is a dance I’ve been doing with my father for years.”

“It sounded to me like he was ready to make the announcement,” Merlin growled, his eyes brightening again after having nearly returned to normal.

“He needs my agreement for that,” Arthur said soothingly.

Merlin nodded, slowly relaxing again. A frown creased his brow. “Do you think Morgana’s prophecy was about you? She does tend to see immediate events.”

“And it usually involves people close to her, so it’s possible.”

“I don’t know if it’s good or bad,” Merlin mused, considering her words. “You’ll have a love, but you won’t marry her?” He frowned again. “It sounds like the betrothal wins.”

“Not at the moment, it doesn’t; I’m rather busy keeping up with my Flare.”

“You think you can?”

“Keep up with you? Of course,” Arthur scoffed.

“We’ll see.” Merlin smirked at him, and something in Arthur’s expression changed, casting his features in a hungry light, and he lunged forward, pressing Merlin against the corner of the carriage seat and crushing their lips together, feeling the sardonic curl of Merlin’s lips soften into a surprised gasp beneath his.

Shocked, Merlin remained motionless and unresponsive at first, but after a moment, he realized that _this_ was why he’d been so angry, this was what he wanted, who he wanted. Groaning, he leaned back, half reclining in the seat and pulling Arthur over him. Arthur slid a hand up to cup the back of his neck as the kiss deepened, their tongues meeting and sliding together. Merlin’s legs fell apart, allowing Arthur to settle more fully against him, and he gasped at the sensation, realizing they were both hard.

Arthur’s breath escaped as a deep moan, and his fingers threaded through Merlin’s hair. His sword pressed between the outside of his left thigh and the inside of Merlin’s right, and he shifted to ease the pressure, then almost rolled to the carriage floor when it jolted to a halt. Reaching out with both hands and magic, Merlin caught him and drew him back onto the seat, both of them shifting until they found a comfortable position where neither of them was in danger of falling off.

“How did we not realize this?” Merlin muttered softly, looking into the blue eyes.

“We’ve been a bit busy?” Arthur asked, tracing a finger over the curve of Merlin’s lower lip.

“Too busy for this? I think Morgana’s right; we _are_ idiots,” Merlin said with a faint laugh. He caught his breath as Arthur’s finger dragged slightly at his lip, and he sucked into his mouth, laving the digit eagerly.

Arthur groaned, and his hips flexed involuntarily against Merlin’s. “It’s not as if I’ve ever thought of a man in this way before,” he rasped.

Merlin regarded him in surprise. “Really? I’ve never done anything, but looking back, I think I was always more attracted to men than women. I just ignored it since I expected to have a female pair-mate.”

“As did I,” Arthur nodded, “expected to have a female pair-mate, I mean.”

“So did your father,” Merlin added wryly. “I don’t know how we’re going to work _this_ out,” he thrust upward briefly, “but I want to try. I hope you do too.”

“Just who kissed who here?” 

“Good point,” Merlin admitted, smiling. “I suppose we’ll just have to figure it out as we go.”

“We may have to discuss it in our rooms because I believe we’ve arrived back at the Hall.”

“I think our rooms might be the best place for this discussion,” Merlin agreed, and Arthur slowly sat up, taking a deep breath and brushing a hand over his clothes, waiting until Merlin had done the same before opening the door so they both could step down from the carriage and walk up the broad steps to the Hall.

The Sword and Flare walked side by side, their shoulders brushing as they made their way to their rooms, occasionally darting glances at each other. For once Merlin was glad that most people were wary of approaching him or Arthur since they were able to avoid being stopped by anyone. They reached their rooms, and Arthur brushed his hand over the plaque on the door, opening it for them.

“So,” Arthur asked once the door was shut behind them, “are we discussing this now?”

“We can’t just be typical men and not talk about it?” Merlin asked hopefully, moving closer to Arthur so he could slide his arms around the Sword’s waist.

“But we aren’t typical men, are we?” Arthur asked though his arms went around Merlin’s waist as well and he leaned in to nuzzle the younger man’s cheek.

Merlin sighed.

“You know we’re going to talk about it, and then, just when we’re ready to actually _do_ something, something will happen. A dragon will attack, or a train will derail, or some other disaster will require our intervention.”

“Hrmm, good point,” Arthur nodded, lifting his chin to lip at Merlin’s earlobe.

His thoughts scattered by Arthur’s actions, Merlin moaned softly and let his head fall to the side, encouraging Arthur to continue, which he did, his lips opening so that his teeth could close on Merlin’s ear as he nibbled his way around it.

“Arthur,” Merlin groaned, his hands sliding down to cup the prince’s ass and pull him closer so Merlin could rub against him.

“Merlin. My Merlin,” Arthur rasped.

“Yes,” Merlin whispered. “Yours. And you’re mine too. All mine.”

Arthur groaned in agreement as he pressed Merlin against the wall next to the door only to jump back, drawing his sword and shoving Merlin behind him when the door banged open.

“Well, that’s an interesting method of training,” a smooth voice drawled, and Merlin peered over Arthur’s shoulder, gaping in disbelief at the Sword and Flare Pair who had entered their rooms.

“And that’s an interesting method of knocking,” he snapped back at the bald Flare.

“You didn’t answer,” the tall, dark-haired, muscular Sword commented as he looked over his pair-mate’s shoulder.

“Which should have told you that we were busy,” Arthur snapped, still not sheathing his sword.

“Training waits for no man,” the Sword informed them with unimpaired cheer, although he did look sympathetic. “Come along, Proctor’s orders.”

Merlin groaned. “The gods hate me.”

“No, they love you,” the strange Sword promised.

“Just who are you?”

The dark-haired man smiled at that and slid an arm around his Flare’s waist. “I’m Jerome, and this is Alexander; now come along before he gets testy.”

Merlin regarded the two men narrowly. “I’m still going with the gods hating me,” he grumbled. “We should have gone somewhere else,” he muttered to Arthur, giving the other Flare a baleful look.

“Other than our own quarters?” Arthur asked, glancing at Merlin before studying the other two. “Let me guess: always be prepared.”

“Of course,” Flare Alexander replied. “Enemies won’t wait till it’s convenient for you to attack.”

Taking the other Flare’s words to heart, Merlin caused a tapestry to fall off the wall and cover the Pair, Arthur taking advantage of their surprise and slamming his shoulder into both of them, leaping out of the way when Jerome’s sword ripped through the fabric.

“You _are_ fixing that when this is over,” Merlin growled, using his magic to tangle Sword Jerome while fending off Alexander’s spell at the same time.

“What; you can’t fix it yourself?” Jerome laughed as Arthur’s sword rang against his. “And we really should take this to the training gymnasium before we destroy your quarters.”

“Of course I can fix it. The point, however, is that you damaged it, so you fix it,” Merlin retorted before glancing at Arthur. “He has a point, Arthur. Not that I couldn’t fix everything, but why destroy our rooms?”

Arthur straightened, his sword still held at the ready. “We could go to your rooms and destroy those.”

“No,” Jerome laughed.

Merlin tilted his head slightly to one side, regarding Alexander. “You’re strong, one of the strongest I’ve seen, but you know what I am. Is there some reason for this other than to torment us?”

“Because we have to learn to always be on our guard,” Arthur murmured, looking at the older Pair.

“I’m on my guard. I’m also frustrated!”

“Learn to live with it,” Jerome said cheerfully as he sheathed his sword. “And stop glaring at them, Lex; that won’t do any good; practice will.”

“He’s not the only one who’s frustrated,” Alexander groused, making Merlin laugh briefly.

“Good!”

Jerome grinned at his pair-mate. “I’ll make it up to you later.”

“That’s if you can move,” Arthur interjected. “And let me guess; there will be no changing into training leathers tonight, will there?”

Alexander and Jerome only grinned, so Merlin sighed. “Wonderful, we’ll look like fighting peacocks.”

“But at least our rooms won’t be a mess,” Arthur reminded him. “Gentlemen, if you don’t mind?” He waved a hand toward the door.

Jerome preceded his pair-mate through the door, knowing Alexander would have shielded their backs to prevent a sneak attack from the other Pair. After a quick test of Alexander’s defenses, Merlin shrugged slightly and gestured to Arthur to follow them.

“It looks like we’ll have to postpone our discussion—and anything else!”

“Don’t worry, boys, there will be plenty of time for that,” Alexander called back, and Arthur felt the tips of his ears redden.

“Shall we do our best to get this over quickly?” he muttered to Merlin, who smiled almost ferally.

“No holding back,” he agreed.

Jerome and Alexander had vanished into the darkened training salon, and Arthur glanced at Merlin. “It’s going to be an ambush,” he murmured.

“Good thing I always keep shields on us, isn’t it?” Merlin replied smugly. “And that _my_ Sword is better than his.”

“But of course,” Arthur chuckled, reaching out a hand and resting it on Merlin’s shoulder. “But we could make them somewhat less ready for us... A diversion, perhaps.”

Looking intrigued, Merlin tilted his head slightly. “What did you have in mind?” he asked, clearly more than ready to follow Arthur’s lead.

“Can you make doubles of us? They don’t have to last for more than a moment; just long enough to get the attention off of us.”

Merlin’s lips curved in a slow, dirty smile. “I like the way you think, Pair-mate. I can do that easily, and I can make us invisible at the same time, I think. It’s just a variation on the same spell.”

“Perfect. Do I need to stay close to you, or can I split off once we’re in the salon?” Arthur asked, his fingers tightening on Merlin’s shoulder before releasing him.

“As long as you’re not planning to run to Aquitania, it’ll be fine. But, er, don’t plan on that for other people in the field,” Merlin added. “Anyone else, I’m limited to a hundred yards or so.”

“That is something else we’re going to have to discuss,” Arthur mused before glancing toward the open doors. “Ready?”

Merlin nodded and gestured to his Sword to precede him, the brilliant gold of his eyes showing that he had already implemented the spells Arthur wanted. He drew his own sword, although if it came to that, he knew he would be in trouble. He wasn’t totally useless with edged weapons, but Alexander’s skill was such that had he not been gifted as a Flare, he likely would have become a Sword.

Arthur gave a hard, flat grin, waiting for the sound of an attack from the other side of the doorway, using the other Pair’s attack on their doppelgangers to loop his belt around Alexander’s leg, pulling the Flare’s feet out from under him as Arthur moved past him, preparing to engage Jerome.

Merlin flowed into the room behind Arthur, a ball of light illuminating the salle brightly, and he cast a spell at Alexander, hoping to immobilize him before he recovered his balance. The older Flare twisted even as he fell, getting off a spell before Merlin’s froze him in place, at least for the moment.

Biting off a yelp, Merlin ducked instinctively even though his shield stopped Alexander’s spell. He never wanted to rely on the shield because that way lay certain disaster. He darted a glance at Arthur, seeing that he was battling Jerome, who was far closer to an even match for Arthur than anyone else Merlin had seen, other than Lancelot and Ambrosius.

Merlin immediately returned his attention to Alexander, seeing that the other Flare was already fighting off the effects of Merlin’s spell. He quickly spoke an incantation that left Alexander bound, blindfolded, and gagged. He knew that the Flare could free himself, given enough time, but in the field, that would be sufficient to allow Merlin or Arthur to deal with him.

Arthur caught the motion as Jerome’s green eyes flicked toward his downed pair-mate and pressed his attack, gaining a momentary advantage before Jerome fought back, the two of them moving closer to the Flares. Jerome’s foot nudged Alexander’s back as they passed, and the older Flare’s bonds unknotted and slid away, a quick spell leaving Arthur’s feet stuck to the floor.

Merlin immediately realized what had happened and growled softly, the attack on his pair-mate pricking his temper even though he knew it was only a training exercise. He immediately whispered a counter-spell to free Arthur, unable to abide the touch of unfamiliar magic on his Sword for a moment longer than absolutely necessary.

Taking advantage of Merlin’s momentary distraction and Arthur’s focus on Jerome, Alexander flowed to his feet and rapped the younger Flare sharply on the back of his head with the hilt of his knife.

Startled, Merlin cried out, more in surprise than pain, and staggered slightly. Arthur spun at the sound, blocking Jerome’s sword-swipe in a negligent manner, his eyes narrowing to burning blue slits as he advanced on Alexander, a deep growl rumbling from his throat.

Seeing his Sword’s reaction, Merlin gasped and moved between him and Alexander, hands rising to Arthur’s shoulders. “I’m fine, Pair-mate,” he said soothingly. “Flare Alexander was simply teaching me a lesson about something I shall have to watch for in future.”

At Merlin’s touch, some of the fury left Arthur’s expression though his attention remained fixed on Alexander—at least until he felt the light prick of a sword-point at the small of his back.

“I’d say we’ve found a weakness you need to be aware of and work on,” Alexander observed blandly, making Merlin snort.

“Do you really think so?” he asked dryly. “And here I thought we’d done so well by getting ourselves killed.”

“You still lasted longer than we thought you would,” Jerome commented as he sheathed his sword and walked around the other two to stand by his Flare, his arm going around Alexander’s waist.

Arthur blew out a gusting breath and sheathed his sword as well before gently turning Merlin around to examine the lump on the back of his head. “Do you need a physician?” he asked.

“No, Alexander was careful not to hurt me, despite my total inattention,” Merlin assured him. “We’re going to have to work with other Flares so that I can work past my reaction to their magic touching you.” Merlin unconsciously shuddered faintly and bared his teeth in a snarl.

Arthur blinked at the sound, and his hands dropped to Merlin’s shoulders. “And I’m going to have to get past focusing only on whoever hurts you.”

“Well, they seemed to have learned something,” Alexander observed.

“And much better to have learned it here than in the field, under attack,” Jerome added.

“Yes, we obviously need to work on that before we get ourselves killed,” Merlin agreed.

“And you will.”

Arthur looked over at the other Pair at that, his eyes narrowing at that before forcing himself to relax again. “Yes, we will.”

“Your bond is extraordinarily powerful,” Alexander observed. “You needed to become aware that it could be a weakness as well as a strength.”

Merlin nodded. “When your magic touched him,” he shuddered faintly, “it was as if acid were poured over my skin.”

Arthur’s hand moved soothingly over Merlin’s shoulder as if he was trying to ease the sensation, and his gaze flicked to Alexander for explanation.

“Fascinating,” the older Flare murmured.

“Not from Flare Merlin’s side, I’d wager,” Jerome put in.

“How do we fix it?” Arthur asked.

Merlin moved closer to him, tension flowing from him as he relaxed against his Sword. “It won’t be as bad next time, now that I know to expect it. It did bother me a little when Morgana and Gaius’ magic touched you, but it was nothing like this.”

“You know and trust Morgana and Gaius,” Alexander explained. “As closely bonded as you are, you will never happily tolerate another touching your Sword in that way, but they will always be easier for you. Unfortunately, enemies will be even worse.”

“And you will have to guard your own emotions if your Pair-mate is injured,” Jerome added, his focus on Arthur, whose jaw clenched at the mention of Merlin being hurt. “Getting yourself killed by going into a blind rage will not help either of you.”

“So how do we work through this? I’m not going to suggest that Merlin be wounded to see if I can control myself,” Arthur snapped.

“For which I am grateful,” Merlin said dryly, making the other Pair grin.

“We’ll do some sparring,” Alexander said. “You’ll probably feel battered, but it will give Arthur a chance to learn to cope when you’re not in any real danger, and I can give you some weapons training at the same time. You should continue it with your pair-mate when you’re out in the field too.”

“We will,” Arthur assured the other Pair as he continued to rub his hand in small circles on Merlin’s back. “And we’d better find Flares willing to cast spells on me—and not turn me into a rabbit, thank you,” he added as Alexander’s grin morphed into a smirk.

“Anything anyone does to you, I’ll do right back to them if I think they’ve gone too far,” Merlin growled, giving Alexander a narrow-eyed look while Jerome laughed at them all.

“I think seeing you with a fluffy tail might be quite entertaining,” he informed his pair-mate, causing Arthur to choke back a laugh.

“I prefer you without any fluffy tail,” Merlin muttered to Arthur, shaking his head even as he grinned.

“You have my most profound thanks for that.” Arthur shuddered at the thought before looking at Merlin closely. “Are the effects easing at all?”

Merlin nodded. “Yes, it was better as soon as I got the spell off you, but...” He smiled sheepishly. “I like it here.”

“Here?” Arthur asked, looking around the salle, then at the younger man.

“ _Here_ ,” Merlin repeated, running his hand over Arthur’s chest and pressing against him even more, something that had Alexander hiding a smile.

“Here is good,” Arthur murmured before looking at the older Pair. “And now that you’ve revealed our weaknesses, are we through for the night?”

Alexander inclined his head. “I’m sure it won’t be long before you adapt. It has been our privilege to assist.”

“And before you worry about missing us, we’ll see you come morning,” Jerome added.

“I’m sure we can hardly wait,” Arthur said dryly.

“ _Early_ morning,” Alexander said pointedly, gaining himself a dirty look from Merlin.

“Early?” Jerome asked, looking at his Flare.

Alexander opened his mouth, met the green eyes, and licked his lips instead of speaking. After a moment he said, “Perhaps not so early after all.”

“Swords are most dangerous to their own Flares,” Merlin observed in a tone rich with amusement.

“I somehow think that Flares can hold their own,” Arthur answered while Jerome nodded in agreement.

“I’d dearly love an opportunity to try,” Merlin muttered.

“I do believe that’s our cue to take our leave,” Alexander said, sliding an arm around his pair-mate’s waist. “We’ll expect to see you here at ten tomorrow morning.”

“Training leathers and full weaponry; try not to wear each other out,” Jerome added cheerfully as they left the salon.

“Shall we take our leave before someone else finds us?” Arthur asked.

By way of answer, Merlin took hold of his Sword’s arm and drew him along as he strode toward their suite, not pausing to allow anyone to speak to them.

The moment they were back in their rooms, Arthur turned, stroking his hand over Merlin’s face, his fingers trailing over the sharp angles of his features then back to the lump on the back of his head.

“This has been quite the evening,” he murmured.

Merlin’s answering laughter had more than a little wildness in it. “I don’t think I could survive too many like it.”

“I’ll remind you of that when we’re older and have weathered far stranger ones.”

Merlin groaned pitifully and buried his face against Arthur’s throat. “I dread to imagine it.”

Arthur turned his head and nuzzled Merlin’s dark hair as he gently rubbed the back of Merlin’s head. “The good times will outweigh the hard.”

Merlin raised his head to meet the clear blue of Arthur’s eyes. “They already do, Pair-mate.”

Arthur stared at him for a long moment before closing the distance between them, his lips brushing over Merlin’s. Merlin gasped softly and pulled Arthur closer as he deepened the kiss, admitting to himself how much he wanted this, wanted Arthur.

“I was ready to kill him for hurting you,” Arthur breathed against Merlin’s lips, his fingers carding through the dark hair and down to the lean column of his neck.

Merlin pressed his forehead to Arthur’s, closing his eyes as he inhaled the familiar scent of his pair-mate. “I felt the same when I felt Alexander’s magic touch you. No one gets to touch you but me.”

“I suppose we needed to know how this affects us, but it’s not going to make the fact that I feel the same way go away.” As Arthur spoke, he stroked his free hand over Merlin’s shoulder, feeling his muscles bunch beneath his formal wear.

Merlin tilted his head back to meet Arthur’s gaze, all but purring as Arthur petted him. “Maybe touching each other more will make us surer of each other and better able to tolerate others,” he suggested.

“That is a good possibility,” Arthur mused, sliding his hand inward so that it slipped beneath the heavy cloth of Merlin’s coat to press against the bright blue brocade of his waistcoat, making Merlin shiver and reach for the buttons on Arthur’s vest and shirt, eager to touch the warm skin beneath.

Arthur’s indrawn breath accompanied the touch of Merlin’s hands on his chest, and a shudder ran through the length of his body as he worked at the knot that held Merlin’s cravat closed, wrenching the stickpin from the fine fabric and tossing it aside so that he could tug at the buttons, finally baring the pale flesh beneath. He dragged his fingers down the bared part of Merlin’s chest, staring in fascination at the chill bumps that followed his touch.

“Arthur!” Merlin gasped the name, his eyes falling half closed as the prince touched him, and his own hands tugged more feverishly at Arthur’s garments. “Mine,” he whispered.

“Yes,” Arthur murmured as they dragged at each other’s coats and shirts, leaving the clothing on the floor around them before they were pressed bare chest to bare chest, coming together in an open-mouthed kiss.

Merlin rocked against him, neither of them noticing when the door locked behind him and the fire began to burn in the hearth. Merlin pressed closer, curling one leg around Arthur’s hips, making him groan and slide his hands down Merlin’s back to cup his ass, pulling their bodies even more tightly together.

“Yes,” Merlin moaned, tangling his fingers in Arthur’s hair as they continued to kiss, neither of them aware of anything beyond each other.

“We had best sit, or we’re going to be on the floor,” Arthur rasped.

“Or we could move to one of the bedrooms,” Merlin suggested, his lips moving over Arthur’s jaw.

“Mmm.” Arthur’s answer came in the form of a pleased sigh as he tilted his head to the side to allow Merlin more access.

“You taste good,” Merlin purred, dragging his tongue over the sensitive flesh behind Arthur’s ear.

“And you feel amazing,” Arthur whispered, his fingers kneading at Merlin’s ass as he ground their bodies together.

“I want to feel more of you... bed!” Merlin said emphatically, tearing himself away from Arthur, though only allowing an inch between them. “Or we’re going to end up on the floor, as you said, and I don’t want carpet burn.”

“So conjure a fur in front of the hearth, and we’ll dispense with that problem.”

“My Sword is a brilliant man,” Merlin said with a breathless chuckle, his eyes flaring briefly before he tumbled Arthur to the thick fur now lying in front of the fireplace.

“As is my Flare for recognizing that,” Arthur sighed as he rolled Merlin under him, the firelight painting ruddy, abstract designs on their skin.

“Such modesty,” Merlin said, his tone brimming with amusement and his eyes dark with arousal and appreciation.

“Who needs modesty?”

“Only poor fools who don’t look like you,” Merlin whispered, pressing a kiss to the center of Arthur’s chest.

“Or you,” Arthur’s voice was rough, and his hands clenched in the white fur on either side of Merlin’s head.

“I think this may be better than the night we paired,” Merlin said softly, raising his head to brush a kiss over Arthur’s lips.

“It’s definitely more comfortable,” Arthur nodded as he nibbled on Merlin’s lower lip, which curved in a smile.

“You’re all I want.”

“Then don’t go dancing with Lady Freya again,” Arthur growled.

“I won’t if you don’t dance with Lady Sophia! And no marriages, at least not yet,” Merlin amended irritably, remembering the need for a royal heir.

Arthur kissed the frown away even as he nodded. “Remember what Morgana said; I may marry at some point, but it will be for one reason only.”

“And you’ll still be mine.” Merlin caught hold of Arthur’s hand and drew it up to press his lips to their entwined marks, the move causing Arthur to groan and grind down against him.

“Sweet Goddess,” he gasped, reaching for Merlin’s wrist with his free hand and mimicking the move so that Merlin could feel the sensation.

Merlin’s eyes widened, and he wrapped both legs around Arthur’s waist, pulling him more tightly against himself. “Lord and Lady, they never mentioned _that_!”

“If they had, Swords and Flares would be beating at the opposing academy’s doors in search of their pair-mate,” Arthur breathed as they moved together, the sensation of Merlin’s lips on his wrist too overwhelming for him to even consider trying to get the rest of their clothes off.

“Right now, I’m not seeing the problem with that,” Merlin chuckled breathlessly between moans of pure pleasure. “And I’m sealing our door so we never have to do anything else again.”

Arthur’s laughter was harsh and hungry. “We can do this and fulfill our duty as well.”

“Tomorrow. Duty tomorrow. Tonight... is just us.” Merlin arched up and bit Arthur’s ear, and the prince moaned, twisting his neck to catch Merlin’s mouth again, eating at it as Arthur arched down against him again and again before stiffening and shuddering while pleasure coursed through him.

Merlin’s legs tightened around Arthur as the Flare watched his pair-mate climax, shudders of pleasure wracking him at the sight, and then he rolled them over and thrust down against Arthur, managing several strokes with his eyes locked on the prince’s sated expression before he came as well.

“It’s a good thing that we have a late morning tomorrow,” Arthur commented, stroking his hands over Merlin’s back as he stretched out under the younger man and smiling lazily up at him.

“Yes, it is,” Merlin agreed, kissing Arthur even before murmuring a spell to clean them up and rid them of their remaining garments.

“You are exceedingly handy,” Arthur chuckled, giving a lazy smile as he watched Merlin through heavy-lidded eyes.

“I’m rather glad you think so since you’re stuck with me now,” Merlin replied, an extremely self-satisfied smile on his lips.

“Rather more than stuck.”

Merlin’s smile widened. “Good.”

“Good?” Arthur asked, sounding amused as he twined his fingers together at the small of Merlin’s back.

“Very good,” Merlin said in a husky tone that resembled a purr.

Arthur nodded and relaxed back against the thick white fur, his thumbs inscribing small circles against Merlin’s skin. “Brilliant,” he murmured, looking up at the younger man.

“You don’t mind then? This and that I’m not a girl, I mean.”

“Nothing has felt more right in my life.”

Merlin beamed. “For me too, you’re everything I ever wanted.”

“We’re going to have to redecorate, but this way we’ll also have a study,” Arthur mused.

“Bookshelves and weapons racks,” Merlin said, clearly already designing their den in his mind.

“And comfortable chairs.”

“ _Sturdy_ , comfortable chairs.”

“We’ll order them together,” Arthur promised.

“That sounds like fun,” Merlin said happily.

“That’s the first time since I’ve known you that you’ve said shopping would be fun.”

“Prat. This is different. It’s us shopping for us.”

Arthur chuckled and pulled Merlin in for a kiss. “You’re rather adorable when you’re vexed.”

Merlin made a face. “I have never been adorable in my life,” he informed Arthur with great dignity as he crossed his arms on Arthur’s chest and propped his chin on his wrists.

“And how do you know?” Arthur asked, his lips quirking in a small grin.

“I’ve made an effort not to be.”

“Oh really? And how, pray tell, does one do that?”

Merlin glared. “You are such a... a... clotpole!”

Arthur goggled up at him, his thumbs stilling in the small circle they were inscribing on Merlin’s back. “A what?”

“A clotpole,” Merlin repeated defiantly despite the slightly sheepish expression in his eyes.

“And what, pray tell, is a clotpole?” Arthur snickered.

“You.”

“Ahh, it’s a compliment then.”

Merlin snorted, and Arthur grinned. “As in ‘Arthur, you are the most amazing, talented, brilliant man I’ve ever met.’”

“I think I’m going to be ill.”

“I personally think it’s a love-struck look.”

“I’m going to be sick _on_ you.”

“Try it and I’ll swat your backside.”

Merlin paused, his eyebrows rising. “That... could be interesting.” He smirked.

“It would also make training tomorrow difficult.”

“We’ll have to keep it in mind for another time, if a quiet time ever exists in our lives.”

“Pervert. You’re going to keep my life quite lively, aren’t you?”

“It’s my fondest wish.”

“I’m certain that I will do my best to make that wish a reality.”

“Fortunately, we have years to work on it,” Merlin said with great satisfaction.

“I’m looking forward to it,” Arthur murmured, pulling Merlin down for a kiss.

“We’re going to have a brilliant life together,” Merlin informed him, smiling down at his pair-mate.

“Of course, we should get some sleep, or we won’t feel like that after training tomorrow—or is it later today?”

“I think it’s likely today by now. As you said, it’s fortunate that we have a late morning.”

“Your room or mine?” Arthur asked.

“Hmm, yours, I think. I want to spend the night in your bed,” Merlin replied in a throaty tone.

“I believe it will be our bed from now on.”

“I like that even better.”

“As do I, but you have to get off of me before we can make use of it.”

“Not really—I am a Flare, after all. But since I don’t really want to float us to bed...” Merlin pressed another kiss to Arthur’s chest and pushed himself to his feet, offering his pair-mate a hand once he was upright.

Arthur stood, keeping his fingers closed around Merlin’s as they started toward his room. “I’m glad of that; I’d really rather not be floated as well.”

“You mean you don’t want to be dropped,” Merlin laughed.

“One would lead to the other.”

Merlin stopped and turned to glare at Arthur. “Are you saying that you don’t trust my magic?”

“You were the one who brought up the dropping!” Arthur protested.

“ _I_ was joking.”

Arthur smirked. “So was I. I would trust you to float me or give me wings or even gills if it came to that.”

“Prat. Fine, I’ll keep that in mind if we need to retrieve something at the bottom of a sea.”

“Oh, hush and get into bed, idiot,” Arthur chuckled.

“At least I’m not a clotpole,” Merlin muttered while doing as ordered. A reluctant smile curved his lips as he slid between the sheets and found himself surrounded by Arthur’s scent.

“True, only one of us can be outstanding,” Arthur laughed as he climbed in next to Merlin, pulling the younger man into his arms and settling back against the pillows.

“You are so lucky I love you.” Merlin stilled as soon as the words left his lips, and Arthur lifted his head up enough to stare at him.

“It seems Morgana’s prophecy will be a true one.”

Merlin rolled over to face Arthur, his eyes searching the blue gaze only inches away. “I’m glad,” he admitted.

“Now we just have to hope that we can find a queen who will be as understanding.”

Merlin shrugged. “You have time. And I know you don’t want to hear this, either of you, but Morgana might be the best candidate. Both of you would know exactly what to expect and what would _not_ be part of the marriage. Or maybe Gwen.”

“Morgana?” Arthur sounded horrified by the suggestion. “Goddess forbid!”

Chuckling, Merlin patted Arthur’s shoulder soothingly. “It was just a suggestion.”

“A horrid one; I’ve a mind to kick you out of bed for that.”

“No, you don’t.” Merlin kissed him, trying not to laugh.

“Yes, I do,” Arthur huffed against Merlin’s lips.

“You’d miss me.”

“Possibly,” Arthur allowed.

“So we should both just stay right here, yeah?”

“And get some rest.”

“I think I’m going to sleep very well tonight.”

“I might if you stopped talking!”

Merlin chuckled and mimed buttoning his lips before making himself more comfortable in his sprawl over Arthur and closing his eyes. Arthur shifted slightly and let out a satisfied grunt before wrapping his arms around Merlin and drifting off to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

A soft chiming woke them the next morning, and Merlin smiled before he even opened his eyes. “It wasn’t a dream.”

“You were dreaming about me?” Arthur asked, his voice low and rough as he was still half-asleep.

“Often,” Merlin replied, turning his head to kiss the chest his head was pillowed on. “But I like reality much better.”

“Yes,” Arthur murmured, stroking his hand over Merlin’s back, his fingers brushing the slight curve of the younger man’s ass. “As do I.”

Merlin shivered and arched above him. “I set the wake up earlier than we need to get to our training session... in case we wanted to do something else first.”

“Something else?” Arthur asked, his smile curving his lips into a sensual bow as his eyebrows winged upward. “Why, Flare Merlin, are you suggesting we wear ourselves out before training?” Even as he spoke, his hands were moving over Merlin’s body, exploring his back and down over his ass.

“Why, Sword Arthur, are you implying that you have so little stamina that a little play here will wear you out?” Merlin shifted over Arthur, rubbing against him while licking his lips.

“Of course not, Flare Merlin,” Arthur scoffed. “Are you implying that we’ll be so boring that we won’t tax our stamina in the least?”

Merlin laughed. “We can’t manage boring while having a cup of tea, so I don’t think we’re in any danger of falling asleep in bed unless we intend to.”

“Certainly not if you keep gyrating like that—did you learn it from your tree?” Arthur chuckled, though his hands clenched on Merlin’s hips as he spoke.

“My tree remains firmly rooted,” Merlin informed him, now circling his hips. “It’s your dragon who wrapped himself around it.”

“Because it wiggled just like you do,” Arthur answered before giving up on conversation and dragging Merlin down to him so that he could kiss him again.

Merlin sputtered briefly before realizing his time was much better spent in kissing Arthur. He rocked down, pressing their erections together between them, and groaned harshly, the sound barely muffled.

“That feels brilliant,” Arthur gasped, working a hand between them to circle and clasp Merlin’s cock.

Nodding jerkily, Merlin thrust into Arthur’s fist and then lowered his head to lick one of Arthur’s nipples.

“Bloody hell,” Arthur groaned, hooking a leg around Merlin’s hip, experimenting with what made the other man react most and filing those things away in his memory.

“You taste good,” Merlin whispered as he kissed his way across Arthur’s chest to take the other nipple into his mouth and suckle strongly. Arthur’s hand clenched on his ass, and his back arched off the bed as he moaned in pleasure, making Merlin shiver and rub against Arthur’s thigh.

“I want everything,” he murmured.

“You can have it. _We_ can have it,” Arthur rasped as he stroked his hand over Merlin’s cock as much as he was able to, given Merlin’s position.

“I love my life,” Merlin said, giving Arthur a grin as he surged upward to kiss him again. The prince managed to roll them over before nipping on Merlin’s lower lip as he pulled back, his gaze locked on his own hands on Merlin’s body.

Merlin wriggled under his pair-mate, his eyes heavy lidded as he watched Arthur watch him. “I think this is my new favorite position.”

“It might be hard to train this way, but I’d be glad to give it a try,” Arthur chuckled before leaning in to lick a line up Merlin’s chest.

Merlin’s laugh turned into a gasp, and he curled his legs around Arthur while arching upward.

“Gods, you’re addictive,” Arthur breathed, licking his way over Merlin’s chest again, his hands fisting in the sheets as the salty musk of Merlin’s skin burst over his taste buds, sending explosions of pleasure through his body.

“At least we’re even then.” Merlin writhed under Arthur, every movement causing slick skin to slide against skin, making him seek ever more contact.

Arthur hummed in response, leaving off his exploration of Merlin’s chest to kiss him again as they ground together, the slide of their erections against each other drawing a groan from him even as he reached back, his hand closing on Merlin’s hip and dragging him closer.

“There’ll never be enough time for all I want to do with you,” Merlin panted, grabbing fistfuls of Arthur’s hair to hold him close as Merlin ravaged his mouth.

Arthur sucked on his tongue, panting when the kiss finally broke apart so that he could stare down at Merlin. “We’ll just have to do our best to do as much as we can then,” he groaned, his body moving sinuously against Merlin’s.

“I love the way you think,” Merlin gasped, his hands sliding down over Arthur’s back, his nails lightly scratching along the length of the prince’s spine.

“That’s because I’m brilliant,” Arthur murmured, leaning to the side to nip and suck at Merlin’s earlobe.

“I wish I could say something to deflate that ego, but yeah, you really are.”

“Keep moving like that and you’ll deflate something else soon enough.”

Merlin chuckled breathlessly. “Isn’t that the point of this?”

“Very true, though both of us being deflated at relatively the same time would be even better.”

“And you think that’s not going to happen?” Merlin sounded incredulous.

“Well, you keep _talking_ ,” Arthur pointed out before circling his hips again and groaning when Merlin matched him.

“Trying not to go off too soon,” Merlin admitted against Arthur’s throat an instant before he bit down, just short of letting his teeth break the skin.

Arthur let out a strangled gasp, his hands closing down on Merlin’s arms tightly enough to bruise, and then he was coming, his come slicking the glide of their bodies together.

Merlin shuddered with pleasure as he felt Arthur come apart and the heat of his pair-mate’s seed on his skin. “Mine,” he whispered, his eyes pure gold when he raised his head to meet Arthur’s gaze just as the first spasms of climax ripped through him.

“Gods, yes,” Arthur whispered, another jolt of pleasure coursing through him as he stared down at Merlin’s passion-drugged features.

“I love you,” Merlin breathed against Arthur’s lips as he tugged the blond’s head down to kiss him.

“I love you as well,” Arthur whispered into Merlin’s mouth, finally gentling his hold on the other man’s arms to wrap his around Merlin’s waist and roll them over.

“Now if only we didn’t have to get up today,” Merlin mumbled.

“We have to if we ever want to graduate,” Arthur said logically.

“Bloody hell,” Merlin sighed. “Well, at least we can lie here a bit and enjoy it. I’ve set a second alarm for when we truly need to get up.”

“Mmm, such a smart pair-mate I have,” Arthur murmured. “Though cleaning us up would be smart as well so we can move when the time comes.”

It took Merlin a moment to stop chuckling so he could say the spell that left them as fresh as if they’d just stepped from a bath. “Sometime when we have more time, we’re going to enjoy a long bath together afterward.”

“Mmm, I believe that I could enjoy that,” Arthur said, his voice rumbling and almost resembling a purr, the vibration making Merlin shiver and press closer as he lay atop the prince.

“I hoped you might.”

Arthur chuckled and ran his hands up and down Merlin’s back. “Are you warm enough? Do you want me to pull up the blanket?” he asked, sounding relaxed.

“Mmm, no, I’m good.” Merlin rubbed his cheek against Arthur’s shoulder. “Don’t want to feel anything but you touching me.”

Arthur sighed and nodded before kissing Merlin’s forehead. “So, we can sleep for a bit, mmm?”

“Yeah, that would be good,” Merlin agreed sleepily, one hand curling around Arthur’s upper arm in a possessive grip, the prince sighing happily as he let his eyes close, knowing nothing more until the alarm rang stridently an hour later.

“Bloody hell, I hate that thing,” he grumbled.

“Me too,” Merlin mumbled without opening his eyes. “Are you sure you don’t want to abdicate the throne and both of us abandon our duties and flee the country for somewhere we can sleep in?”

“Tempting, but no.”

“Damn.” Merlin sat up reluctantly, rubbing his eyes and yawning as he tried to wake up.

“That’s better—and now we get dressed and deal with fighting our own instincts while dealing with our opponents.”

Merlin groaned pitifully. “It’ll be easier with enemies I can kill for touching you.”

“I know the feeling well, but I’d rather _not_ have one of us killed because we’re distracted, and I imagine you would as well,” Arthur pointed out as he swung himself out of the bed, stood and stretched before glancing back at Merlin. “Oh get up, will you; you’re much too tempting sitting there.”

Merlin grinned up at him and got to his feet, stretching hugely. “So having me standing in front of you in the altogether is less tempting?”

“Only so far as I would have to knock you over now to get you back into bed.” Arthur looked tempted to do just that before he sighed regretfully and took a step back toward his wardrobe. “You need to get dressed _now_.”

“I’m going to have to explore that on a day when we have more time.” Merlin grinned wickedly before starting toward the door. “We should have the servants move my things into this room while we’re training today.”

“We’ll notify them on our way out,” Arthur nodded.

“Good. Because we won’t want any delays when we get back.” Merlin’s voice was rife with promise.

“If either of us can move at that point.”

“I’ll be inspired,” Merlin assured him from the other bedroom as he dressed.

“Mmm, I’m looking forward to that,” Arthur called as he slid various weapons into sheaths and holsters before finally belting his sword at his hip.

“Me too,” Merlin agreed from where he now lounged in the doorway, watching. “I find it somehow comforting—and very hot—just how many weapons you have secreted about your person.”

“Well, perhaps when we return, you can amuse yourself by finding them all,” Arthur suggested, lifting his gaze to stare at his pair-mate, his blue eyes burning as hot as a gas flame.

Meeting Arthur’s eyes, Merlin shivered and took a step toward him before he could stop himself. “I shall make a note of it,” he said huskily. “And now we’d best go to the dining hall to break our fast, or we won’t get out of these rooms.”

Arthur sighed in resignation and nodded. “Duty—and our empty stomachs—calls.”

The Pair left their rooms and hurried through their meal, aware of the sidelong looks and hushed laughter of those around them.

“I’ll be glad when we leave on our first assignment and we can continue this without an audience,” Merlin sighed, trying to avoid making eye contact with anyone other than Arthur.

“What will they ever do without us to gossip over?”

“Oh, we’ll still gossip about you,” Morgana informed him cheerfully as she and Gwen sat down at the table with them. “We’ll just have to speculate on your activities.”

Merlin groaned, and Arthur glared at his cousin. “Morgana...”

“Will behave,” Gwen put in with a bright smile.

“That’s what worries me,” Merlin retorted, eyeing the two women askance. “Your idea of behaving is rather different from ours, I think.”

“I’ve known that for years,” Arthur muttered under his breath before sitting up straight when he felt a zap to his posterior.

Merlin’s head jerked around, and he snarled at Morgana, who looked momentarily taken aback before understanding crossed her face.

“I see what we’ll be working on today.”

“Not working with you,” Arthur commented even as he reached out and stroked a hand over Merlin’s arm. “Jerome and Alexander are going to pummel us—again.”

“Again? When did they get back?” Gwen asked.

“They were certainly here last night,” Merlin replied wryly. “They pounced on us after we returned from the reception.”

“And showed us that we have some very serious weaknesses we hadn’t discovered before,” Arthur murmured.

“I didn’t think to warn you since it usually only happens after a Pair has been mated for years,” Morgana said. “Your bond is amazingly strong.”

Merlin glanced at the entwined marks on his wrist. “Arthur is the other half of me.”

“Being who they are, can you imagine anything less?” Gwen asked, watching as Arthur’s hand slid down Merlin’s arm so that he could stroke his fingers over the marks.

“I think Albion will be very fortunate in her future rulers,” Morgana said softly, for once totally serious as she spoke of Arthur.

Merlin turned his arm so that he could catch Arthur’s hand in his, their fingers interlacing as they looked at each other.

“I’m fortunate as well,” he murmured, not looking away from his pair-mate.

“And I,” Merlin replied.

“They’re so sweet,” Gwen said, causing both men to turn to look at her, their eyes wide.

“Sweet?” Arthur asked, sounding pained, though he didn’t let go of Merlin’s hand.

“Sweet,” Morgana reiterated with a grin. “You two are adorable together.”

Merlin made gagging sounds that Arthur echoed even as the large clock on the wall at the end of the hall chimed.

“Oh, ten o’clock, must fly,” he said, grabbing a roll and stuffing a piece of sausage in it. “Merlin, I believe we’re due to be pummeled.”

Groaning, Merlin got to his feet. “It’s inhumane, I tell you.”

“You’ll survive,” Morgana replied with a cheerful lack of sympathy.

“It’s better than their cooing,” Arthur murmured as soon as they were away from the table. “Here,” he added, pressing the food into Merlin’s hand, “you didn’t eat.”

Merlin opened his mouth to argue, met the determined blue gaze and simply took a bite, Arthur nodding as he swallowed the food down. “We need to keep our energy up,” he reminded the Flare before winking.

“And not just for training,” Merlin replied, sliding an arm around his pair-mate’s waist.

“I think you’ll need more than a roll and a bit of sausage for energy for that,” Arthur promised.

“I’ll have a good meal after practice,” Merlin assured him.

“Perhaps you will be able to cajole Gwen and Morgana to bring it to us because I wonder how spry we’ll be feeling after this.”

Merlin groaned. “I think we’ll feel as if we’d been run over by a train.”

“You do have medical training, don’t you?”

“I’d really prefer not to have to use it on either of us.”

“As would I,” Arthur promised as they reached the training salle. “And here we are...”

“We were beginning to wonder if you’d forgotten us,” Alexander greeted them from where he leaned against the far wall.

“We were just having something to eat,” Merlin replied.

Jerome chuckled, the sound growing when both Arthur and Merlin blushed.

“Maybe we should get to work,” Merlin said hastily.

“Oh, most definitely,” Alexander smiled. “Flare Merlin, you will be working with my pair-mate this morning. Sword Arthur, you are all mine.”

“I really don’t like the sound of this,” Arthur muttered to Merlin, who shook his head in agreement with the sentiment.

“Let me guess, I have to try not to get skewered by you while your pair-mate’s magic crawls all over mine,” Merlin sighed to Jerome.

“And he has to try not to break off from his own opponent when I get past your guard,” Jerome nodded cheerfully.

“If you can get past it,” Arthur commented.

Merlin just murmured a spell under his breath, adding to the shields already around Arthur, and drew his own sword as he turned to face Jerome.

“Have you figured out yet how Jerome freed me last night?” Alexander inquired as he and Arthur squared off against each other.

“We haven’t studied the problem yet,” Arthur grunted, testing Alexander’s defenses and telling himself that Merlin could take care of himself, that this was only training.

Merlin was too busy concentrating on Jerome for small talk, his eyes on the Sword’s face as they circled. “You know that if I ever find myself facing someone like you in the field, I would _not_ be relying on sword work.”

“I know,” Jerome laughed. “But what happens if your magic is disabled?” He lunged in and took a swipe at Merlin, watching as the shorter man danced back out of his way.

“I hope Arthur finishes his opponent off quickly,” Merlin replied dryly even as he riposted.

“Working on it,” Arthur called as he slowly circled Alexander, watching for an opening.

“So you’re going to depend on your pair-mate or get killed?” Jerome asked, attacking again.

“Of course not.” Merlin parried and counterattacked, sparing a tiny portion of his attention to shift a pole behind Jerome, hoping to trip him up.

The larger man stepped over the pole without even sparing a glance backwards, getting in under Merlin’s guard and smacking his thigh with the flat of his blade.

Arthur snarled, but his attention was taken up keeping Alexander at bay. He could feel the Flare’s spells sliding away from him, blocked by Merlin’s shields, but knew it wouldn’t be long before the wear eroded them.

Merlin suddenly riposted with skill he had never possessed before, easily sweeping Jerome’s sword aside and slipping under his guard to score a hit.

“Oh ho, very nice,” Jerome grinned.

Merlin stared at him even as they continued to fight. “How did I do that? I don’t know how to do that.”

“Perhaps not, but your pair-mate does.”

“My-- _That’s_ how you got Alexander free last night!”

“Arthur will have to practice, but eventually he’ll be able to channel small spells—comes in very handy at times.”

“What type of spells?” Arthur asked Alexander.

“That’ll all depend on your pair-mate. It’s a portion of his abilities, so the stronger the Flare, the more you’ll be able to do.” Alexander’s lips curved in a brief smile. “You may end up with more ability than some of the actual Flares.”

“Oh really?” Arthur asked, his lips curved in amusement.

“I told you I was special,” Merlin called, dodging another of Jerome’s attacks.

“And just who managed a touch on a very talented Sword?” Arthur called back.

“You’re special too,” Merlin assured him, making the other Pair laugh at his placating tone.

“Oh, they are a perfect match,” Jerome commented. “It reminds me of us at that age, don’t you agree, Lex?”

Alexander chuckled. “Unfortunately for them, yes. Our lives were much too interesting, as I recall. But having the right pair-mate makes up for everything else.”

“That it does,” Jerome said, smiling at his partner before twisting out of the way when Merlin tried to score on him again.

“I already agree with that,” Merlin put, dancing aside as Jerome riposted. “It even makes up for him coming with a title.”

“I’m ever so glad you believe so,” Arthur snorted as he circled Alexander, trying to herd him back toward Jerome in the hope of tangling the other Pair together.

“That takes a lot of making up for,” Merlin assured him, making Alexander chuckle and then dance aside from Arthur’s attack during his instant of inattention.

“We’re going to discuss this later,” Arthur announced before wincing when one of Alexander’s spells made it through the worn-thin shields and tagged his left arm.

Merlin snarled and stumbled slightly but managed to recover in time to parry Jerome’s attack, though not without taking a blow on one arm that was sure to bruise.

Arthur’s expression tightened as if the blow had hit him as well, and he pressed his attack against Alexander, at the same time trying to remember the words to a simple spell, wondering if he dared try it, if it would work. Another spell hit him at the same time he heard Merlin grunt and felt a phantom pain on his right thigh, and he threw caution to the wind, muttering the words he had heard many times. He managed to keep his eyes from widening when the pole that Merlin had used to trip Jerome up rolled across the floor and between Alexander’s boots.

“And that’s what we’ve been waiting for,” Jerome said, sounding pleased as he disengaged from his bout with Merlin. “You’ve each made use of the other’s strengths now. It will be easier the next time.”

“This was all to force us to draw on each other’s skills?” Arthur asked, rubbing his chest and feeling strangely drained from the match.

“Not entirely, you did need to learn to master your reactions to attacks on each other,” Alexander corrected. “But yes, that was one of the main goals of our session. We were sure that your bond was already strong enough to manage it, and the Magister and Proctor agreed with us.”

Merlin was watching Arthur, and he saw that his pair-mate seemed more tired than usual, as did Merlin himself, and he frowned. “Drawing on each other’s power is more draining than using our own?” he asked, and Jerome nodded.

“It is at first until you learn to balance the energies, but that comes with time and practice.”

“Something else to practice,” Arthur said wryly as he sheathed his sword and reached up to rub the back of his neck, at the same time walking over to Merlin’s side, pushing his sleeve up to examine the bruise darkening his forearm.

“We should get the physician to look at this,” he murmured.

“It’s just a bruise,” Merlin protested. “A quiet night in our quarters will do it more good than anything the physician could do for it.”

“We’re going to have a physician look at it,” Arthur said sternly, and Jerome chuckled quietly as he moved over next to Alexander.

“Ahh, I remember those days.”

“That’s because it was last week,” Alexander pointed out wryly, making Merlin groan.

“It never stops?”

“It does.” Jerome got out at the same time Alexander chuckled, “Never.”

“What are you all going on about?” Arthur asked.

“The insane—but sweet—overprotectiveness of Swords,” Merlin told him with a quick kiss. “The physician is going to think we’re mad, but if it’ll make you happy, we’ll let him look at my arm before we go back to our rooms.”

“It will make me happy,” Arthur muttered, ignoring the other Pair’s grins.

“So we’ll let the physician tell you that I’m fine, and then we can get back to unfinished business.”

“Which, I think, is our cue to leave,” Alexander laughed. “We have some of that business of our own.”

“I do so love unfinished business,” Jerome grinned, winking at the younger Pair before he swooped Alexander up and carried him out of the room.

Arthur looked over at Merlin at that, his eyebrows raised. “I don’t think we need to have that kind of exit, do you?”

“I might have to zap you if we did!”

“Hrmm,” Arthur mused, “I’ll remember that—for another time. Now come along, to the physician with you.” As he spoke, he caught Merlin around the waist and urged him in the direction the other Pair had gone.

Merlin eyed his pair-mate with bemusement. “You want to be zapped? You’re weird, Arthur. But I imagine I could work with it.”

“And I look forward to it.”

“And you look so wholesome,” Merlin pretended to marvel, causing Arthur to roll his eyes as he pushed open the physician’s door.

A short time later, the Pair left the room, Arthur holding a jar of ointment. “I told you that you needed healing,” he commented in a self-satisfied manner.

“Yes, Arthur,” Merlin replied in much the same tone the physician had used when agreeing with the Sword that Merlin required a salve. “You can put it on for me in our rooms.”

“That’s what I intend to do,” Arthur huffed, looking at Merlin sternly.

“Yes, Arthur,” Merlin sighed, rolling his eyes. “Whatever you say, Arthur.”

“I like that answer.”

“Of course you do. Prat,” Merlin half laughed. “You’re just lucky my tree likes your dragon.”

“I seem to recall you saying something about loving _me_ ,” Arthur responded archly. “What our dragon and tree do on their spare time doesn’t have anything to do with that.”

“Well, perhaps they’ll learn something from us. I suppose I have to admit to being somewhat fond of you.”

“Deny it again and I won’t massage your bruis _es_.”

Merlin laughed. “But then I wouldn’t massage yours, and we’d both be sore and unhappy.”

“I didn’t get whacked numerous times with the flat of a sword.”

“I could fix that.”

“Some pair-mate you are! I offer to tend to your wounds, and you _threaten_ me!”

“You threatened to add to my bruis _es_ ,” Merlin snorted.

“I did not!” Arthur exclaimed indignantly. “I said I wouldn’t massage them if you denied that you said you loved me!”

Merlin eyed him. “Then how did I end up with multiple bruises when I only have one?” Only one visible one at any rate since the one on his thigh hadn’t come up yet and he wasn’t favoring the leg at all. But then he shook his head, knowing full well that Arthur would never injure him. This was obviously just another instance of his Sword’s overprotectiveness, turning every glancing blow Merlin had taken into a bruise in Arthur’s mind. “In fact, why do I have any bruises?” he grumbled.

“Swordwork.” Arthur stated. “We’re going to have to work on that.”

Merlin sighed. “Tomorrow,” he said emphatically. “I have other plans for this evening.”

“After I check out your bruises,” Arthur said firmly.

~*~

A brisk knock was the only warning Arthur and Merlin got in the wee hours of the morning before Gaius, Ambrosius and Lancelot all let themselves into their rooms. A sleep-dazed Merlin blinked at them in befuddlement, taking several seconds to understand why the three men were frozen in place in the doorway of his bedchamber.

“Oh!” He hastily freed them from his defensive spell and released his grip on Arthur’s arm, having grabbed him when they both woke at the intrusion. Fortunately for all of them, some part of Merlin had realized that very few people could have come that far past his outer wards, so he’d stopped his pair-mate from attacking before either of them was fully awake.

“What the—“ Arthur demanded, shaking his hair back out of his face and relaxing his hold on his sword as he glared at the three older men. “Gentlemen? I must assume there is some dire need of my pair-mate and me to have gained your attention when the birds are still abed.”

Gaius nodded shortly. “I’m sorry to have to cut your training short, boys, but we’ve received word of a rogue dragon in the far north. From the description, it’s an old and powerful creature, one that would be far beyond the abilities of most Pairs.”

“But not beyond what you believe ours are,” Arthur stated, eyeing the three other men before glancing at Merlin, his eyebrows raised in a silent question.

“It seems we’re going on a journey.” Merlin fixed the older men with a baleful glare. “And if I die a virgin, I’m coming back to haunt you!”

Ambrosius snickered behind a fist while Arthur blanched. “Merlin...” he hissed.

“Well, it’s true!” Merlin growled. “We decide we’re going to get to it, and something comes up. I’m starting to think it’s a conspiracy!”

The prince flopped back to the bed, covering his eyes with his forearm while Ambrosius broke into laughter and Gaius and Lancelot tried to restrain their chuckles. 

“You do realize that you are naked and sharing a bed, don’t you, gentlemen?” Lancelot finally asked, sending Ambrosius into fresh peals of laughter.

“Please, Proctor, don’t add to it,” Arthur begged. “Can we meet you in the outer rooms once we’re dressed?”

“I hate them all,” Merlin grumbled once he and Arthur were alone in their bedroom. “And you’re not allowed to die before we actually shag. Actually, you’re not allowed to die after we shag either, so just forget dying at all.”

Arthur moved his arm and turned enough to stare at Merlin, his expression somewhat worried. “It’s not as if I’m going to actively _try_ ,” he finally managed to get out. “And I cannot believe you said that to them!”

“Neither can I,” Merlin admitted, blushing. “But I was just so frustrated. I thought we were finally going to manage to shag this morning, and now we have to go capture a rogue dragon. Why didn’t they just send my father?” he demanded irritably.

“Because apparently we have unique abilities?” Arthur offered before rolling over on top of Merlin and kissing him. “And we will shag; it just may be delayed a bit.”

Merlin pouted up at him. “I’m holding you to that,” he warned before fisting his hand in Arthur’s blond hair and pulling him into another kiss. “But right now, I suppose we’d best dress and join them before they come back in here.”

Arthur shuddered at the thought though he licked at Merlin’s mouth before rolling off him and reaching for the clothes he’d pulled off the night before in his hurry to get Merlin into bed.

Merlin murmured a short spell as he stood up, leaving them and their garments clean. “I’ll message my father once we’re on our way and find out if he knows anything about this dragon.”

“And speaking of fathers, we will have to go see mine before we leave,” Arthur warned, making Merlin moan pitifully.

“I could see to our supplies while you do that,” he suggested hopefully.

“The more you hide from him, the worse it’s going to get. Now come on; we don’t need them bursting in again, do we?”

“I think I hate you right now,” Merlin muttered. He belted on his sword and pistol and nodded.

“No, you don’t,” Arthur replied cheerfully, “you love me, and your tree is fixated on my dragon.”

“Both I and my tree apparently need to improve our taste,” Merlin replied wryly. “Then again, you love me too, and it seems your dragon is content to spend the rest of its life wrapped around my tree.”

“Who can blame it?” Arthur grinned, opening the door to the outer room and ushering Merlin out ahead of him.

“You owe me ten pounds, Ambrosius, Lancelot as well,” Gaius chuckled.

Eyeing them narrowly, Merlin shook his head. “I really don’t want to know.”

“At their age, we would have managed it,” the elderly Sword huffed.

Merlin gawked. “Maybe some of us prefer not to have an audience waiting on us!”

“Ambrosius, behave,” Gaius murmured before studying the red-faced Pair. “The two of you will be taking the morning train to Little Islington; the king would like to see you before you leave, so use your time wisely.”

“Do you have any questions about the dragon?” Lancelot added.

“When did it first appear?” Arthur asked, setting his mind to the task before them.

“The first reports were nearly a month ago,” Gaius replied. “We first sent a dragonlord, and then an experienced Pair, but the dragon gravely injured all three of them. There’s some doubt the Pair will ever return to active duty.”

Merlin’s eyes widened. “The dragonlord couldn’t control it?”

“No, it’s an old, powerful dragon, and we don’t know its name. Without that, even a dragonlord can’t control it.”

“Pardon me asking then, Magister, but how are we to succeed where the others failed?” Arthur’s brow furrowed, and he shifted in the seat he had taken beside Merlin on the sofa.

“You are more powerful,” Lancelot said bluntly. “Jerome and Alexander reported that you have each proven able to use the other’s talent, and while this is not a mission we would choose to send you on for your first, we would not send you if we didn’t believe you were ready.”

“And Merlin’s heritage as a dragonlord will help as well,” Gaius added. “Though the gift will not become active while his father lives, it is still a small advantage that no other Flare has. Beyond that, trust your instincts.”

“I suppose you don’t mean the one that’s yelling to run and hide?” Merlin asked wryly.

Lancelot looked at the Pair stonily. “If we believed for a second that you meant that, you wouldn’t even be considered for this.”

“Though caution is an important skill,” Gaius reminded him.

“As is daring, given the circumstances,” Arthur pointed out.

“I suppose we’ll just have to see what we can manage, preferably without becoming the dragon’s next meal.” Merlin reached over, taking Arthur’s hand in his.

“You do have quite the motivation,” Ambrosius said, smirking slightly.

“Saving the countryside and keeping the beast from roaming farther, most definitely,” Arthur nodded, rubbing his thumb over the back of Merlin’s hand.

Gaius snorted a laugh, and even Merlin rolled his eyes, but no one chose to comment for fear of encouraging Ambrosius.

“Keep in touch, and don’t hesitate to ask for anything you need,” Gaius instructed.

“We will,” Arthur promised, “and we’ll keep you apprised of our progress.”

“Now, I suppose we need to take our leave of the king,” Merlin said reluctantly.

“That would be for the best,” Lancelot offered as the older men stood to take their leave.

“Your father hates me,” Merlin said morosely, his fingers tightening on Arthur’s.

“He does not,” Arthur said firmly. “Now come on, once we meet with him, we’ve still to pack.”

“I’m counting on you to protect me from your father. I’m pretty sure I heard him talking about having stocks built.”

“No,” Arthur said simply before kissing Merlin. “And of course I’ll protect you, but I have no doubt that you could more than hold your own.”

“Turning the king into a goose is probably not a good idea,” Merlin replied with a wry quirk of his lips.

“Hrmm, no, not if we both didn’t want to end up in jail.”

“Right, so you’re in charge of protecting me.” Merlin sighed and squared his shoulders. “And maybe someday he’ll see past the fact that I’m not a woman.”

“Well, you could cast an illusion...” Arthur chuckled, teasing to ease his own tension at their upcoming mission.

Merlin stuck his tongue out at the prince. “Prat. And illusion or no illusion, I’m hardly likely to bear your heir.”

“Hardly, you don’t have the hips for it,” Arthur snickered.

“I find it very disturbing that you didn’t even have to think about that.”

“Haven’t you heard, my dear Flare, that royalty are all perverse?”

Merlin laughed. “I really didn’t need to hear that before meeting with your father.”

Arthur shuddered at that and made a face. “That is _not_ how I need to think of my father either, thank you!”

“My pleasure.” Merlin smiled sweetly at him.

“Idiot.”

“And I’m all yours.”

“Likewise, Pair-mate,” Arthur promised, kissing the tip of Merlin’s nose before stepping back. “And now we need to get to the palace.”

Merlin sighed. “I suppose I have to get used to seeing the king eventually, and sooner better than later. I just hope he doesn’t actually give in to the urge to shoot me.”

“My father is not prone to committing homicide,” Arthur sighed. “Or to putting people in the stocks _or_ putting them in the dungeons unless they’re criminals.”

“I’m not convinced that he doesn’t think I _am_ a criminal for pairing with you,” Merlin said wryly. “But since I imagine he’d rather stay on your good side, I’m probably safe. So let’s go beard the Pendragon in his den.”

~*~

When the Pair reached the castle, they were ushered into the king’s private chambers, Uther studying them both levelly as they bowed before gesturing them to a pair of chairs near the fire across from his own.

“Gentlemen. I understand that you are being sent to Little Islington.”

“Yes, Sire,” Arthur answered, reaching over to rest his hand on Merlin’s to steady him. “The Proctor and the Magister informed us that we were the Pair best suited for the task at hand.”

“And they think that sending the crown prince after a rogue dragon is the best plan?” Uther growled.

“They think that sending the strongest Pair, which includes the strongest Flare and most skilled Sword, is the best chance of defeating the dragon,” Merlin responded, looking pale but standing his ground.

“And if you fail, Albion has no heir.”

“We won’t fail,” Arthur said firmly.

“Besides, if the dragon kills everyone, there won’t be an Albion to need an heir,” Merlin added.

Uther studied them through narrowed eyes, then nodded shallowly. “A good point, Flare Merlin; I have faith in my son’s abilities and in what I have heard of you. When the two of you return, I would like to have you join me for a meal.”

Merlin’s expression made it clear he wasn’t sure he wanted to survive to come back to that, but he managed a sickly smile and nodded. “Of course, Sire.” His hand turned under Arthur’s so he could clench his pair-mate’s fingers, but he held the smile as Arthur’s fingers tightened around his in support.

“Be prepared to have a bounty of food, Father,” the prince said to ease the moment, “Merlin has a rather large appetite.”

Merlin gave Arthur a dirty look. “I do _not_ eat too much!”

“I didn’t say you did!” Arthur protested. “I just said you ate rather a lot, nothing wrong with that.”

Uther chuckled. “I see you are well matched.”

Merlin, who had been about to reply to Arthur, snapped his mouth shut and stared at the king, who returned his gaze, his expression placid. “I was worried that you were something of a milquetoast, Flare Merlin, but it seems you have some spine, which my son’s pair-mate will certainly need to deal with him.”

“Father!” Arthur exclaimed, the word half a groan.

After a moment of stunned silence, Merlin burst into laughter. “And it seems that you’re a human being in addition to being the king.”

“And a father who has to balance the needs of his son with the needs of a country.”

“I am sitting here,” Arthur commented, relaxing somewhat as his pair-mate and his father actually talked.

“Why yes, you are, and you look very nice doing it,” Merlin assured him with a smirk that caused the king’s eyebrows to rise.

“I’ve ordered the Oak Car put on the ten o’clock train,” he stated.

“Thank you, Father, that’s most kind.”

“I have a feeling this is going to be a lot more comfortable than my last train trip,” Merlin observed.

~*~

 “So, is it more comfortable than your last train trip?” Arthur asked as they settled into the lushly appointed coach, the dark oak of the woodwork broken by plush velvet upholstery in burnished gold.

“Can we live on this train?” Merlin asked, sighing blissfully as the seat embraced him.

“There may come a time when it feels as if we do,” Arthur mused as he opened a case and examined the broadsword inside of it. “It seems my father feels my blade is inadequate.”

“What?” Merlin’s eyes flew open, and he sat bolt upright, looking insulted on Arthur’s behalf.

“At least for fighting dragons.” As Arthur spoke, he hefted the huge sword, the shiny blade glinting in the light from the gas lamps. “Though I’d rather not get near enough to the beast to use any sword; a spear or heavy crossbow would be more useful—and by the way, have you heard back from your father?”

“Yes, and he doesn’t know any more about this dragon than we do, though he’s contacting all the other dragonlords he knows to see if anyone anywhere knows anything. In the absence of that, it’s going to be up to your throwing arm and my magic. And yes, I’d rather you not get close enough to use a sword on this creature.”

Arthur set the sword back into its case and closed the latches as he nodded. “I have to agree with that, but despite our wishes, we won’t be able to control the dragon’s behavior.”

“I intend to give it my best shot,” Merlin stated. “I only just found you; I’m not about to see you end up as a dragon’s dinner.”

“I do appreciate that,” Arthur answered, looking over at Merlin and giving a winning smile. “Oh, and I had planned on giving you this after we were released into the field, but seeing as that was somewhat hurried...” Arthur reached into his jacket pocket and drew out a flat rectangular box.

Opening it, Merlin inhaled sharply, his eyes running over the gold bracelet. “It’s beautiful,” he said softly, reaching for it mentally and smiling when he felt the shield spell in it. “I hope you got yourself one as well... though I’m not sure how that would feel to me,” he added musingly.

Arthur shook his head at that. “No, I didn’t want you distracted by how it would feel on me.”

Merlin nodded. “That’s probably best. I’ll create one for you along the way, tie it to something you already have.”

“It’s inscribed,” Arthur said casually, making Merlin turn the bracelet so he could see the inside. A moment later, he burst into laughter.

“’My dragon will always belong to your tree’? Arthur, you are quite, quite mad,” Merlin snorted. “But my tree is happy to hear it.”

“What? It was a personal inscription,” Arthur huffed.

“Yes, it is,” Merlin replied with a fond chuckle before he kissed Arthur. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Arthur grumbled, still somewhat put out by Merlin’s reaction though a corner of his mouth was turned up in a smile, inspiring Merlin to kiss him.

“I know, I’ll tie the shield spell to your mark once it’s ready. That way I know it can never be taken away from you... and it’s certainly fitting for us,” Merlin finished wryly.

“Just so long as it doesn’t make the mark dance,” Arthur chuckled before gathering up a folded map and carrying it over to Merlin, dropping down in the chair next to him and spreading the map out on the low table in front of them. “Care to formulate a plan now, or are you still enjoying the ambiance?”

“I can do both simultaneously,” Merlin informed him loftily, the superior expression immediately spoiled by a grin. “And since I’d like us to have the opportunity to enjoy the ambiance on a return trip, I think we’d best start working on that plan.”

“On the return trip, we’re going to spend our time enjoying each other,” Arthur stated matter-of-factly before pointing toward details of the area they would be travelling to. “From the reports, the dragon is situated north of the town; he’s attacked farms there.”

His mind still on Arthur’s first comment, it took Merlin a moment to shift gears and focus on the map. “The land there is mostly flat, which wouldn’t offer him much in the way of a den. We need to look for rocky areas where there could be caves.”

“You think we should come at him in his den?” Arthur asked before pointing to an area miles north of the town. “And there, that’s the nearest location.”

“It’s not ideal,” Merlin admitted, “but at least in his den, we don’t have to worry about innocent bystanders, just ourselves.”

“Very true, and that’s the important part: to keep them safe.”

Merlin nodded. “Though I’d like it if we came out of this alive and in one piece as well. I have plans for you, Pair-mate.”

Arthur’s smile was sharp and tight. “Damn right.”

They shared a glance of total accord before Merlin leaned over to give Arthur a quick, hard kiss.

“Be that as it may, right now we need to concentrate on our plans.” Arthur said though he reached out and caught Merlin’s wrist, rubbing his thumb over their intertwined marks as he spoke.

“Dragons are traditionally dispatched with swords, but I’d much prefer you didn’t get that close to the beast,” Merlin said. “Guns would be ideal, but I’m frankly not sure how much good a bullet or even several will be against a magical creature that big since I haven’t had time to work out how to spell the ammunition as we discussed.” He eyed Arthur. “How do you feel about crossbows?”

Arthur glanced at him and cocked an eyebrow. “If you mean how good a shot am I with them, the answer is very.”

“Brilliant,” Merlin enthused. “So you can skewer the bloody great lizard, and life will be grand.”

“Only if you can’t find out why he’s doing what he is doing,” Arthur cautioned. “The loss of a beast of his age would be grievous for Albion.”

“True,” Merlin admitted, “but the loss of you would be even more grievous. And I guarantee you that the dragon would not survive that.”

“I’d really rather avoid that, so shall we concentrate on stopping the beast?”

“Of course. I will try to talk to him first, but do keep in mind that I’m not actually a dragonlord yet.”

“I have faith in you, Pair-mate—and a large crossbow.”

Merlin chuckled. “All your weapons are of impressive size.”

Arthur glanced over at him and smiled wryly. “Stop trying to distract me; I’m attempting to plot out our attack.”

“I’m simply providing you with the proper incentive.”

“Idiot,” Arthur snorted.

“And I’m all yours,” Merlin said cheerfully, his tone causing Arthur to catch him and pull him close.

“Damn right,” he rasped, shuddering at the sensations coursing through him.

“I thought we weren’t supposed to be distracting each other just now?” Merlin protested though he made not the slightest move to free himself from Arthur’s embrace.

“We can make our plans without distracting each other,” Arthur promised even as he made himself concentrate on the map. “It looks as if coming in from the southwest would provide us the most cover.”

“And this area here looks most likely to interest a dragon looking for a den,” Merlin decided, pointing at a spot in the area Arthur had indicated earlier. “Not to mention that the caves there date back centuries. Considering the size and probable age of our dragon, I’d guess he settled down for a nap a few centuries back and only just woke up. We might be able to communicate with him and get him to settle back into his den for food to be delivered at that.”

“I’d rather that was the case,” Arthur murmured. “To kill a dragon of his age would be a tragedy.”

“I can’t argue that, but if it’s him or you, it’s going to be him, no question!”

“Perhaps we should do our best to keep it to neither of us being dispatched, hmm?”

“That would be preferable. And then once we’re done, I suggest we stop off for the night on the way back, somewhere with soft beds and no interruptions.”

“Only you and I,” Arthur agreed, tightening his arm around Merlin before looking at the map again. “Coming at him head on might be for the best; make him less defensive.”

Merlin nodded. “Let’s just hope his last encounter with humans wasn’t some dotty medieval knight trying to hack away at him with a broadsword.”

“Did your father know anything of the dragonlord who tried to control him?” Arthur sighed.

“He knew the bloke, but that’s about it. He’s fairly young, new to his full powers, and if anyone had had any idea that this wasn’t some new, young dragon who hadn’t learned the rules yet, he’d never have been sent. But no one saw pictures of the dragon until it was too late.”

“A shame and an injury that shouldn’t have happened,” Arthur sighed. “There should have been more information gathered.”

Merlin nodded. “What kind of idiot goes after a dragon before learning anything about it? I hate to say it, but if the fool hadn’t learned his lesson here, he’d likely have died somewhere else. Dragons don’t tolerate fools easily.”

“It doesn’t make it any less of a tragedy,” Arthur murmured. “He is the last of his line.”

Merlin reached over and squeezed Arthur’s shoulder. “Yes, but there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“Except stop it one way or another.”

“Yes, no one is going to die. That’s what we’re here for.”

“No one and most definitely not us,” Arthur promised, catching Merlin’s hand and bringing it to his lips.

“Good. Remember that when you’re facing the dragon,” Merlin instructed, the authoritative words at odds with his soft smile as he gazed at Arthur.

“We’ll be there together, so of course I will.”

“It’s funny, you know,” Merlin mused. “Only a few short weeks ago, I didn’t know you and could never have imagined you as my pair-mate, and now I can’t imagine anyone else.”

“Should I ask who you did imagine as your pair-mate?” Arthur asked, glancing over at Merlin, his blue eyes narrowed, a gaze that the Flare met with amusement.

“Well, I did think that Isolde would be rather magnificent,” he said in a musing tone.

“She’s rubbish at crossbows,” Arthur sniffed. “You would both be eaten.”

“And you’re completely unbiased, of course.”

“Of course. I’m the crown prince; I was raised to be unbiased,” Arthur said loftily.

“Uh huh.” Merlin was patently unconvinced, and his shoulders were shaking with repressed mirth. “So you would have been perfectly all right with Isolde as my pair-mate if she could shoot a crossbow to your standard?”

“If we hadn’t met? Yes. If we had, Isolde would be worried about other things than if she could shoot a crossbow.”

Merlin smiled, the amusement vanishing under pure satisfaction. “If we had, I would never have looked at another Sword,” he assured Arthur huskily.

“We have,” Arthur pointed out.

“Not really,” Merlin argued. “Just in large group gatherings where you encounter everyone and meet no one.”

“I meant we have at this point.”

“Obviously.” Merlin raised his wrist, letting his cuff fall back to show the edge of his mark. “Which is why you’re my pair-mate and I’m not interested in any other Sword.”

“And why Isolde still has her arms unbroken,” Arthur murmured.

“I should probably find it worrisome just how much I like hearing you say that.”

“Why? I don’t.”

Merlin chuckled helplessly. “I’m never going to be able to get around you, am I?”

“I’m probably the only person who could handle you,” Arthur grinned.

“And I, you,” Merlin retorted, rolling his eyes.

“I suppose that’s a very good thing for the both of us.”

“It’s good for Albion too, but it’s best for us.”

Arthur smiled at that and pulled Merlin in closer. “Most definitely.”


	5. Chapter 5

We’re so relieved to see you,” the mayor of the village all but gushed when Merlin and Arthur stepped off the train. “We were so worried that no one else would come after what happened to the dragonlord and the other Pair.”

“That was never even a possibility,” Merlin replied firmly. “We exist to protect the realm.”

“We exist to protect all of Albion,” Arthur added. “Failure does not equate with defeat.”

“Which is why we won’t be stopping in town,” Merlin continued. “We feel it best to face this dragon as soon as possible, before anyone else can be hurt.”

“You aren’t going to rest here before setting out tomorrow?” the mayor asked, looking aghast.

“We feel it would be best to scout out the territory where the dragon might be denning,” Arthur said.

“If all goes well, this whole situation might be settled today,” Merlin added. “But if we don’t return within two days, it might be best to send a message back to Camelot.”

The mayor’s small eyes bugged at that, and he swallowed convulsively before nodding.

“But have faith that we will prevail,” Arthur said, his words full of quiet strength.

“It’s what we do,” Merlin said simply. “And now we’ll need horses to get out to the dragon’s den, if you please.”

“Of course, my lord Flare,” the mayor replied. “Please follow me. I’ll take you to the stables. We have some fine beasts there.”

“We’ll also need somewhere to store the rest of our belongings in case the train car is needed back in Camelot before we return,” Arthur added as they began walking toward the stables.

“We don’t have a hotel here in Little Islington, but the Widow Westerly lets out a room now and then. I’m sure she’d be happy to let you use one to leave your things,” the mayor replied after a moment.

“That would be fine, Lord Mayor,” Arthur assured him before looking over at Merlin as he lifted his pack. “If you would secure the car, Pair-mate?”

“Of course.” Merlin’s eyes flared gold for an instant, making the mayor gasp and take an involuntary step back. “The car is shielded now so that only another Flare or Sword may enter it.”

“Now if you would show us to the stables?” Arthur suggested, leaving the mayor no choice but to nod and hurry them toward the building.

“I’d forgotten what it’s like in small villages that have no Flares of their own,” Merlin murmured to Arthur.

“I’ve never been in one,” Arthur admitted as he covertly looked around at their surroundings.

“I haven’t often, just sometimes when I was young and my mother would visit a village to assist in a difficult healing. I learned to hide my magic if possible since it usually made the villagers very uneasy.”

Arthur frowned at that, but then the mayor stopped at a weathered building and banged on the door to announce their arrival.

“It seems we’ve arrived,” he murmured.

Merlin regarded the building in disbelief. “If this is the woman’s home, it’s no wonder she takes in boarders. I know Swords and Flares receive the hospitality of a town at no cost when working, but we need to leave her something, Arthur.”

“Of course,” Arthur nodded as he looked around, taking in their surroundings. “I had expected some kind of way-house though, not a private lodging.”

“I don’t think this village is big enough to have a way-house,” Merlin said softly. “At least we’re not putting someone out of their own bed.”

“We hope.”

“Considering that she rents rooms, I think we’re pretty safe.” Noticing the mayor’s curious glance back, Merlin nudged Arthur, and they stepped up to the door, which opened at the mayor’s brisk knock to reveal a graying woman of advancing years who smiled warmly at the sight of the Pair.

“Lord Mayor, Sir Sword, Sir Flare, welcome, welcome.” She stepped back out of the way, beckoning them inside.

“Mistress,” Arthur smiled once they were inside and he saw the well-cared-for but worn furnishings, “thank you for sharing your home with us.”

“We are very grateful,” Merlin added, overriding the mayor’s attempt to protest that their presence was an honor. “Though we will simply be leaving our belongings here for now so that we can seek out the dragon.”

“Have you eaten today?” she asked, looking at them sternly.

“Mistress Westerly,” the mayor sputtered while Merlin bit back a chuckle.

“We broke our fast on the train. And we would be delighted to stop for a luncheon, though we dare not tarry more than an hour. We would prefer daylight for tracking the dragon to its lair.”

“We thank you for your assistance, Lord Mayor,” Arthur said, inclining his head to the shorter man. “Once we have information regarding the dragon, we will pass it on to you.”

The man couldn’t ignore the clear dismissal and took his leave of them.

“If you’ll tell us which room is to be ours, we can move our luggage out of your way,” Merlin suggested.

“Follow me, gentlemen; we’ll get you settled, and I’ve a hearty stew I made for lunch and have kept simmering in anticipation of your arrival,” the woman promised before covering her mouth with both hands. “And forgive me, I’m Miranda Westerly.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Mistress Westerly,” Arthur smiled. “I am Sword Arthur, and may I present my pair-mate, Flare Merlin.”

“A pleasure indeed,” Merlin agreed with the slightest of bows before they took care of their baggage and shortly thereafter found themselves seated at table with full bowls in front of them.

“Mistress Westerly, this is the best food I’ve ever eaten,” Merlin complimented her after his first bite.

“And Merlin eats quite a bit, so he knows of what he speaks,” Arthur chuckled.

“Be nice or I’ll steal yours too,” Merlin informed him, making their hostess laugh.

“There’s plenty for both of you. I know what young men your age can eat.”

“You haven’t seen Merlin eat,” Arthur grinned, purposefully moving his plate out of his pair-mate’s reach.

Merlin eyed him. “You realize you’re going to pay for that, don’t you?”

“Perhaps after we’ve dealt with the dragon.”

Mistress Weatherly chuckled. “You seem well matched.”

Merlin smiled first at her and then at his pair-mate, his gaze softening as it lingered on Arthur. “We are indeed.”

“Do you mind me asking how long you’ve been paired?”

Arthur reached over and rested his hand on Merlin’s before looking over at their hostess. “One month.”

“A month?” Her eyes widened before she recovered.

“We have a _very_ strong pairing,” Merlin assured her. “The Council has not sent us here to die.”

“Merlin is the strongest Flare Albion has ever seen, and his father is a dragonlord,” Arthur added.

Mistress Weatherly’s eyes widened again. “Truly?”

Merlin nodded. “We have every intention of dealing with the dragon and going home safely.”

“I will pray that you are successful.”

“We will be,” Arthur promised, his voice full of confidence.

“No mere dragon would dare to defy him,” Merlin said dryly, making Miranda hide a smile.

“Oh, eat your dinner,” Arthur snorted, shaking his head before tucking back into his own meal.

After enjoying the food and a brief flare of Merlin’s power that left the dining room tidy and the dishes clean, the two men took their leave of the widow and made their way to the livery stable where they claimed their mounts and rode out of town.

“This entire village requires assistance and more than just dealing with the dragon.”

“Yes,” Arthur murmured. “The mayor seems to care more for himself than for the people who are supposed to be in his care.” He paused and looked over at Merlin before studying the terrain around them. “Would it bother you if I acted as my father’s heir once our official task was finished?”

“It would bother me if you didn’t. I think I’m going to enjoy being able to fix more than just magical problems for the people we meet,” Merlin said after a moment’s thought.

“See?” Arthur said, his expression lightening slightly. “Something you thought was a liability is in fact a benefit.”

“Smugness is very unbecoming.”

“I wasn’t being smug; I was stating a fact.”

“Of course you were,” Merlin replied in a tone of a patent disbelief.

“I am not smug!”

“Have you ever listened to yourself?”

“What do you mean by that?” Arthur asked, frowning.

“I mean, my beloved prat, that you have the natural arrogance and smugness that comes with your position and pretty much never having anyone say no to you. Fortunately, you have me now.” Merlin beamed at him.

Arthur chuckled and glanced over at Merlin as he relaxed in his saddle. “I’d say my first year at the Academy was nothing but being told no.”

“Clearly a case of too little, too late.”

“I suppose I should be glad that you love me; heaven knows what you would say elsewise,” Arthur mused.

Merlin chuckled. “I can be very creative. As I’m sure you’ll discover eventually.”

“Once we’ve settled the matter at hand, which we should probably be concentrating on.”

“I don’t think there’s much we can do about it till we actually find him,” Merlin pointed out.

“I’d rather we find him than him finding us,” Arthur countered.

“Are you insinuating that I’m noisy?”

“No.” Arthur looked at him strangely. “I simply meant it would be safer for us to track down the beast than for him to drop in on us.”

“I suppose you have a point. Though at least it would mean we’d found him.”

“I’d rather be somewhat more prepared than having him drop in on us.”

“You have no sense of adventure,” Merlin said with a quiet chuckle. “Then again, if I didn’t know that I had us shielded, I might be a little more concerned myself.”

“Even knowing that, I’m still concerned; the dragon severely injured three highly trained people already.”

“Not to sound smug or overconfident, but there’s a reason why everyone keeps telling us that we’re the best and most powerful,” Merlin pointed out. “Which is not to say that we shouldn’t be careful, but we do have something of an advantage over the others. Not to mention that I’m very motivated to stay alive _and_ to keep you alive.”

“It’s a good thing that I’m supposed to be the practical one,” Arthur chuckled as he studied the terrain around them.

“Are you implying that I’m impractical?” Merlin asked, one eyebrow rising. “I could be scattering rainbows, flower petals, and fairy dust ahead of us as we go,” he added with a slight shudder, remembering one of his year mates at the Academy.

Arthur goggled at him, his eyes wide and his jaw slack. “Please tell me that you’re joking,” he pleaded.

“I really wish I was. Even the youngest girls at the Academy were appalled... and this was a young man in my year.”

“I seem to recall...” Arthur mused. “Did this young man pair with Sword Cecelia?”

Merlin nodded. “Yes, that’s the one. Flare Ashley.”

“I heard he tried to convince her that her leathers would look better if they were shaded to pink, and she dunked his head in a bucket of water to soak some sense into him.”

Merlin snickered. “I would dearly have loved to see that, but I doubt it had any effect on him.” He laughed suddenly as a thought struck him. “Oh Lord and Lady, your face if he had been your pair-mate...”

“Never mind my face, imagine my father’s!” Arthur shuddered before his head snapped up, and he shouldered his horse into Merlin’s, sending them both scrambling off to the left as a huge, shadowy form glided over them. They reached a rocky outcropping that would afford them some shelter, and he grabbed for the large crossbow slung over his back even as he tumbled from the saddle.

“Let the horses go, and get behind the rocks,” he yelled.

Doing as ordered, Merlin kept an eye on Arthur while trying to see where the dragon was. “We want to talk to you,” he yelled skyward, hoping to avert violence.

The dragon roared and sent a jet of fire in their direction, making Arthur sigh.

“It seems that he isn’t one for conversation.”

Merlin cast him a dry glance even as he began a complex spell to cast a magical net over the dragon which would draw him to the ground and hold him in place—always assuming the dragon didn’t kill him first and he didn’t miss his aim.

The moment the dragon stuttered in the air, Arthur leapt to the top of the rocks, aiming his crossbow at it, listening to Merlin chant and finally firing off a bolt that just missed the tip of the dragon’s nose when he snapped his massive jaws in their direction.

Merlin spoke faster, fighting to get the spell out before the dragon attempted to eat Arthur, and he heaved a sigh of relief the moment the last syllable left his lips and the great reptile fell to the earth. Fortunately, Merlin’s spell also controlled the fall, or that might have been the end of the dragon, but as he’d promised Arthur, the Flare was trying to save the dragon as well as the villagers.

“Be careful,” he called to Arthur as he made his way to his pair-mate. “I’m barely able to hold him.”

“Let me know if you feel it beginning to falter,” Arthur murmured though he was sure that Merlin would do just that. Squaring himself and holding the crossbow at waist-level, no longer pointing the weapon at the dragon but knowing he could aim and fire at a moment’s notice, Arthur studied the beast. He was the color of burnished gold with obsidian talons. His scales were thick, and his body was scarred near the right foreleg, telling of a battle in the near past.

“Sir dragon,” he boomed, hoping he was rational enough to comprehend human speech, “I am Sword Arthur Pendragon of Albion, and I am here with my Pair-mate, Flare Merlin, to ask why you have broken the peace between our people and attacked innocents.”

The dragon, who had his mouth open to roar his rage and breathe fire upon them, paused suddenly, his head tilting to one side as he peered at the two humans, the nearest gold eye narrowing. “Merlin and Arthur? Names out of prophecy here before me?” he said slowly, the deep voice reverberating through their very bones.

“If you know us, you know we don’t mean you harm, but we _will_ do what we must to protect the villagers,” Merlin stated.

“If you are here, you should know who woke me from my sleep,” the dragon rumbled, relaxing in the magical bonds.

“I am sorry, but we have no knowledge why you were woken or by whom,” Arthur answered.

The tip of the dragon’s tail twitched. “How can this be? It was a bound Pair that disturbed my rest and informed me that the chattel of this village were mine if I but had the strength to take them.”

Merlin frowned and darted a glance at Arthur, whose lips were pressed together. “How long have you slumbered, Sir Dragon?” the Sword asked.

“I know not, but when I retired to my den, men called Richard Plantagenet, the Lionheart, king of this land.”

Merlin gasped. “Seven hundred years?”

“And who was it that dared to wake you?” Arthur asked.

“I know not their names, but the Sword was female and the Flare younger,” the dragon rumbled.

Merlin frowned, looking at Arthur with eyebrows raised. “I don’t know of any Pairs of differing ages.”

“Was the Flare male or female?” Arthur asked, and the dragon rested his chin on his forelegs before answering.

“Male, and would you mind removing the spell, Flare Merlin? I give my word that I will not abuse the release.”

Merlin glanced at Arthur, waiting for his nod before agreeing. “Very well, Sir Dragon.” He spoke the words that unbound the dragon and regarded the ancient creature curiously. “We have no record of you. Would you tell us your name?”

“I am Griaule,” the dragon said regally as he stretched his wings and settled more comfortably on the ground, “and I gather from your reaction that the Pair had no right to wake me or to offer the village.”

“I speak for my father, King Uther of Albion and for the Sword and Flare Pairs in saying that they did not,” Arthur nodded.

“Then I regret my action in injuring the Pair that attacked me. I thought them mad,” Griaule explained, which relieved Merlin immensely. It was that attack more than anything that had worried him.

“It would be best if you didn’t harm any more people... or livestock belonging to them,” Merlin added hastily. “But the wild animals in the forest, you are more than welcome to.”

“If you choose to remain in this area, we can arrange for some of the king’s livestock to be added to the village’s to supplement your diet,” Arthur offered.

“That would be appreciated,” the dragon rumbled. “I have denned here for long years and would prefer not to seek a new resting place.”

“That’s perfectly understandable. We’ll make sure that the villagers understand what happened so that they don’t bother you,” Merlin told him.

“That would also be appreciated; I have been long away from humankind, and many of them chatter so.”

Arthur smiled slightly. “That is indeed true, and if you do not mind me asking, can you recall anything else of the Pair who woke you?”

The dragon shifted again, curling his tail around himself. “The Sword had long, light hair, paler than yours, and the Flare had dark hair and very blue eyes.”

Merlin stilled abruptly, not even breathing, causing Arthur to look over at him, his eyes narrowing.

“Have you heard of such a pairing?”

“Not a pairing, but the description... a young Flare with that coloring. It could be Mordred.”

“And who is Mordred—aside from someone who will face justice when we find him.”

“He was a Flare candidate with druid training, but Gaius sent him away after his second year at the Academy.”

“Do you know why?” Arthur asked.

“The Magister never said, but something always bothered me about Mordred,” Merlin admitted. “He felt... off.”

“His name too is known in prophecy,” the dragon said suddenly. “Had I known...”

“That’s the second time you’ve mentioned prophecy,” Arthur commented as he dropped to sit on the rock, reaching out and drawing Merlin down next to him. “Care to elaborate?”

“There have long been visions of a golden future for this land under the rule of the Once and Future King, Arthur, and his mate, the Flare Merlin, who will unite all the races, magical and not, and usher in the greatest age of our world. But all could founder if they ‘ware not their enemies. The visions are unclear, but the names Mordred and Morgause recur frequently to our seers.”

“That would have been good to hear a long time ago,” Merlin muttered, rolling his eyes.

“Morgause?” Now it was Arthur’s turn to look troubled. “She was an unpaired Sword, a decade and a half older than I; she left the Academy after her third year of going unmatched.” He paused in his commentary and studied the dragon closely. “All dragons know this prophecy?”

“They did when I withdrew to my slumber,” the dragon replied. “I know not if such is still the case now.”

“Why would the dragons not have told us?” Merlin wondered. “My father has never made mention of any prophecy.” He noticed Griaule’s questioning glance and explained, “My father is a dragonlord.”

“I do not know the answer to your question; perhaps your father should ask it of one who has been awake longer than I.”

“I’m sure he will,” Merlin agreed, already messaging Balinor with the information.

“Is there more you would care to know of this time?” Arthur asked as Merlin scribbled the message on his tablet.

After a moment’s pause, the dragon sighed gustily. “I don’t even know enough to know what to ask yet.”

“Quite understandable; much has changed since Richard Plantagenet’s time, especially for the monarchy, but much has also stayed the same. If you wish, we can arrange to have a historian speak to you at length regarding what has come to pass.”

Looking up, Merlin rejoined the conversation. “I’m certain the dragonlords will wish to speak to you as well, and they will spread word among the dragons that you are here and awake.”

Griaule nodded slowly before lifting his head and looking out over the horizon. “That would be wise; I do not wish to transgress and cause further injury due to my lack of knowledge at the moment.”

“They will all know that what occurred was not of your doing,” Arthur promised, “as will the people of the village.”

“And we will look for Morgause and Mordred,” Merlin added. “Now that we are aware of them, we will be on our guard.”

The dragon rumbled and slowly lurched to his feet. “As you should be; together you are stronger than apart, always remember that.”

“I cannot see us being apart for the rest of our lives,” Arthur answered, reaching for Merlin’s hand as he spoke. Merlin met the reach with a smile as their fingers interlaced, and he leaned into Arthur for a moment.

“Nothing will ever part us.”

“This is good; you will need each other’s strength. I bid you farewell; tell those who wish to speak to me that I will be in this area.”

Recognizing the dismissal, Merlin pushed to his feet, drawing Arthur up as well. “If you wish to visit us, please feel free. I would be honored to speak with you again.”

“I will remember that,” Griaule nodded, swinging his huge body around and leaping for the sky, his wings sending up a backwash that buffeted the young men.

“I’d like to learn more about that prophecy,” Arthur murmured as he took a deep breath.

“I think we need to talk to the historian when we return to the capital,” Merlin said. “But first, since we’re here, shall we do a Search, Pair-mate?”

“That will be third on our list,” Arthur mused.

“Third?” Merlin questioned, hoping he knew what one of the previous items was but unsure of the second.

“Third,” Arthur nodded. “The second is to remove the mayor from his post while the first is to remove you from your abhorrent state of virginity.”

Merlin burst into laughter. “I’m pleased that you have a good sense of priorities.”

“We survived our first mission; I would say that gives us reason to celebrate.” That said, Arthur slid his arms around Merlin’s waist and pulled him in for a kiss.

“I like the way you think,” Merlin said once he’d caught his breath after the kiss. “I just wish the town and our room was closer at the moment.”

“I would say it didn’t matter, but unfortunately I didn’t bring any of those supplies with us.”

“And I would say that was poor planning, but I think it’s probably best to get the riding out of the way before we do this,” Merlin said with a wry smile.

“Plus we really don’t want to get dirt on our bums,” Arthur chuckled, kissing Merlin again before letting him go. “I do need to message the king when we return.”

“And we’ll have to let the village know what happened. Which would probably be a good time to deal with the mayor as well, so we may need to reverse the timing on our first and second priorities. I’d really rather have a lot of uninterrupted time when we finally get to our room.”

Arthur mused over the idea while they walked back down to the horses who miraculously were still in the area. “Though if we depose the mayor when we return, we may not get to our other priority for quite some time.”

“Good point. The mayor can wait. When we get back, we’re going to be very tired from our encounter with the dragon and need to rest for the night.”

“Exactly, my dear pair-mate,” Arthur chuckled as he folded his crossbow and attached it to his saddle before swinging up onto his mount. “And you’ll definitely be making use of silencing spells around our room.”

“The very best ones I have,” Merlin assured him. “Also a strengthening spell for the bed.”

“Damn right.” Arthur waited until Merlin was in the saddle as well, then kicked his heels into his mount’s sides, sending it galloping back in the direction they had come in hours before.

Despite the hour with people settling down for the night, it didn’t take long to advise the villagers of what had happened and for a celebration to begin. Merlin and Arthur managed to slip away after a short time and made it back to the boarding house without running into anyone along the way.

With the door locked behind them and spells surrounding the room ensuring their privacy, Merlin regarded Arthur, a slow smile curving his lips. “We’re alone, with no chance of interruptions.”

“But far too many clothes,” Arthur observed, his hands going to Merlin’s jacket and undoing the clasps, slowly spreading the supple black and blue leather.

“Yes, and weapons,” Merlin agreed, unbuckling Arthur’s gun and sword belts and laying them aside. “I don’t know how you don’t rattle,” he chuckled.

“Sword training,” Arthur chuckled, catching Merlin’s wrist as he reached for his jacket, removing a dagger from his sleeve. “And we don’t need you hurting yourself.”

“No, metal is not what I want in me today.”

“Definitely not.” Arthur removed several other knives and his derringer, setting them all on the desk and tossing his jacket aside before going back to work on Merlin’s clothes, his callused fingers brushing over the sensitive skin of Merlin’s stomach, making Merlin shudder and move closer as he reached for the fastenings of Arthur’s shirt.

“Finally,” he breathed, sliding a hand over Arthur’s chest, causing the Sword to groan.

“The first of countless times,” Arthur assured him, his words husky as they managed to strip each other out of their shirts and began to work on their trousers.

“Lucky us,” Merlin said, growing distracted by the muscular chest. He paused in his efforts to rid Arthur of his other garments, instead pressing close and kissing his pair-mate.

Arthur’s mouth opened beneath Merlin’s, and his hands dug into the other man’s slim waist, drawing him closer so that they could rub against each other.

“Love you,” Merlin panted, his hands curving over Arthur’s ass.

“Forever,” Arthur whispered against his lips before diving in for another kiss as he pulled at Merlin’s trousers, blindly tugging at the fastenings.

“Yes.”

Somehow they managed to rid themselves of their remaining clothing and stumbled toward the bed, tumbling down in a tangled heap, hands and mouths exploring each other.

“Hell, didn’t bring the oil,” Arthur panted as he rolled Merlin under him, rubbing their bodies together as they moved.

“Where is it?” Merlin gasped, arching up against Arthur, his eyes a bright gold.

“Inside my pack.”

The pack floated over to the bed as Merlin mouthed Arthur’s neck, causing Arthur’s hands to be unsteady as he undid the ties and reached inside, finding and removing the vial of oil and setting it beside the bed before letting the pack fall to the floor as he ran his hands over Merlin’s body again.

Merlin shivered, loving the way Arthur’s calluses felt against his skin. He spread his legs in invitation, causing Arthur to settle closer against him for a long moment before he moved back, sliding his hands down to frame Merlin’s cock, then slip farther back so that one finger brushed against the tight circle of muscle.

“Yes,” Merlin whispered, his eyes once again their normal blue, though so dark with lust as to be near black.

The noise that emerged from Arthur’s throat was low and full of lust, and he reached for the oil with his free hand. Some spilled over Merlin’s crotch, which Arthur then massaged into his Flare’s skin as he coated his fingers before pressing one against Merlin’s ass, swallowing his gasp with another kiss as he pushed inside.

Merlin whimpered softly, the sound one of pure arousal, and he clenched down on the invading finger at first before relaxing again to let Arthur press deeper. Wanting more, Merlin slid one leg up around Arthur’s waist, opening himself further.

“Yes...” Arthur whispered, crooking his finger over the small bump deep within Merlin’s body, making Merlin cry out sharply and jerk under him.

“Now!” he begged.

“Too tight, not going to hurt you,” Arthur rasped, twisting his finger.

Merlin groaned, but despite his eagerness, he knew Arthur was right. And in the meantime, he could touch Arthur too. He curled a fist around Arthur’s erection, stroking him eagerly.

“Soon.” A second finger joined the first as Arthur’s whole body jerked at the tightening of Merlin’s fingers around him.

“Want you,” Merlin whispered, staring up into Arthur’s eyes.

“You have me, always.”

“And you, me,” Merlin promised, riding Arthur’s fingers as his own slid up and down the blond’s cock.

Pleasure built within Arthur until he reached out with his free hand and caught Merlin’s wrist. “Stop,” he gasped, “want it to be in you.” He drew back his slick fingers and dragged that hand through the oil on Merlin’s body before slicking himself up under Merlin’s eager eyes.

“Yes,” Merlin said again, nearly vibrating with impatience as he forced himself to lie still, waiting for Arthur.

His breath loud in his own ears as he gently urged Merlin’s legs back toward his body and positioned himself, Arthur looked down into his pair-mate’s eyes, staring down at the younger man as he slowly sank into his body.

“Arthur.” Merlin couldn’t seem to stop saying the name once he’d started, repeating it over and over as his body stretched to accommodate Arthur’s girth. He felt like he’d been waiting for this moment his entire life, and it was everything he’d wanted. “Arthur, yes.”

Arthur’s reply was lost as he closed his lips over Merlin’s again, claiming him in every way possible as he began to move. He slowly drew back and felt himself almost slip from Merlin before he began to slide back in, the muscles in his stomach and thighs quivering with the strain of keeping his strokes slow.

“Goddess yes,” Merlin panted, arching up, his head falling back as if baring his throat to Arthur. “So good, Arthur.”

His lips trailing along Merlin’s jaw as the other man moved his head, Arthur followed the long line of his throat before sucking on the pale flesh there as they rocked together, their bodies rubbing together with each stroke.

“More,” Merlin demanded, flexing around Arthur. “Want everything, don’t hold back.”

Arthur groaned at the order, then his teeth closed on the thin skin beneath them as he surged forward, his strokes growing harder and faster as Merlin met each change enthusiastically.

Merlin cried out, pure, overwhelming pleasure filling his voice as the sharp bite of Arthur’s teeth blended with the other sensations, and he came, his body spasming with his climax. Arthur groaned against him, managing another two thrusts before he was coming as well, spending himself into Merlin’s still clenching body.

Sprawled under Arthur’s welcome weight, trying to catch his breath, Merlin slowly smiled. “Worth waiting for,” he judged.

“So glad you think so,” Arthur chuckled against his shoulder before slowly pushing up onto his elbows so he could smile down at Merlin.

“I also am very glad we didn’t die before getting a chance to do this. That would have a waste,” Merlin said with a grin.

“Yes,” Arthur laughed, “that is the only reason we needed to stay alive.”

“Can you think of a better one?” Merlin chuckled.

“Having the next sixty to seventy years together?”

“And doing this every day of those years,” Merlin countered.

“Only once a day?”

“At least once a day,” Merlin amended.

“Mmm, much more to my liking,” Arthur purred, rolling them both over to pillow Merlin’s head against his shoulder.

“You’re to my liking,” Merlin said contentedly, one hand lazily tracing glyphs on Arthur’s chest. Arthur hugged him in response and lifted his head to press a kiss against Merlin’s dark hair before relaxing back against the surprisingly comfortable bed with a heartfelt sigh.

“This was surprisingly easy for a first mission,” Merlin mused. “Though it wouldn’t have been if we’d gone in fighting rather than trying to talk to the dragon.”

“No,” Arthur murmured, “I have the feeling that we might not have been able to hold him if we had injured him.”

“I believe you’re right. He’s very old and very powerful. And you were right that his death would have been a loss to us all.”

“I’m sure we’ll have time to go and talk to him again—and perhaps to find out more about those prophesies.”

“And perhaps we can entice him to visit us in Camelot,” Merlin mused. “The caverns under the castle are big enough for a dozen dragons.”

“It is a possibility,” Arthur murmured, his voice sounding lazy, “we can make the offer when we visit him again.”

“Yes, that’s good,” Merlin agreed, rubbing his cheek against Arthur’s shoulder. “So’s this, being able to talk like this.”

“We talk all the time,” Arthur pointed out as he stroked Merlin’s side.

“Talking naked and relaxed is new,” Merlin replied. “I like it.”

“And not having anyone barging in or waking us early? So do I.”

“See, good,” Merlin repeated. “We can even do this again. And again. We have all night.”

“You have high ambitions, Pair-mate,” Arthur chuckled. “A good night’s sleep may be in order before the next round.”

“That does sound good,” Merlin agreed. “I don’t think I want to move for a while yet.”

Arthur’s chest moved as he chuckled. “Could you even if you wanted to?”

“Not without using magic,” Merlin admitted with a low laugh of his own.

“Mmm.” Now Arthur’s rumble was prideful.

“Prat,” Merlin said. “You’re no better off.”

“Did I say I was?”

Merlin sighed laughingly. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

“Mmm, you waggled your tree at my dragon,” Arthur murmured, still stroking his hand over Merlin’s side.

“My tree is obviously very intelligent,” Merlin said drowsily, a soft sound very close to a purr escaping him as Arthur petted him.

“And my dragon is very glad of it.” Arthur raised his head to kiss the top of Merlin’s head, then relaxed back against the pillow, his eyes half-closed. “As am I.”

“We’re all going to be very happy together,” Merlin murmured. “And we’ll figure out something for the whole heir thing.”

“Mmmhmm,” Arthur mumbled.

~*~

Merlin awoke early morning with a smile on his lips and completely enclosed in his pair-mate’s arms. Arthur was still asleep, and Merlin took advantage of the chance to simply observe him in the rare moment of repose. Sleeping, Arthur looked years younger, carefree and relaxed, and Merlin liked to think that he was, at least in part, responsible for that.

Arthur stretched beneath him and sighed, his arms tightening around Merlin’s waist before he slowly opened his eyes and smiled. “You’re thinking very loudly for so soon after waking,” he murmured.

“I’m just admiring the view.”

Arthur smiled and tangled a hand in Merlin’s hair, pulling him in for a kiss. “I know mine was a lovely sight to wake to.”

“It makes waking up worthwhile,” Merlin said, stretching lazily against Arthur. “And that’s something I never thought I’d say.”

“I’m beginning to think you should be some large cat,” Arthur chuckled, “just wanting to lie around, be petted, and eat.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Merlin replied, still smiling. “It sounds lovely to me.”

“And if you were a large cat, I bet you would drape yourself around my shoulders, expecting me to carry you around everywhere.”

“Yes, well, I’m not a cat, and your shoulders are not where I want to drape myself,” Merlin assured him.

“Tempter,” Arthur commented, hunger darkening his eyes.

“I thought you liked that about me.”

“I do except when we’ve got to rouse ourselves and go deal with official duties, the first being checking on the mayor—sadly, we do need more proof than not liking the man to depose him.”

“There are times when I could wish you were less aware of our responsibilities,” Merlin sighed. “As for the mayor, I have a feeling that conversations with some of the villagers will give us all we need to deal with him.”

“And a look at his records.” Arthur’s smile turned hard before he kissed Merlin again. “And I would apologize for being the responsible one, but I’m not, and I promise to make it up to you.”

“I know you will.” Merlin’s return smile was sensual for a moment before he consciously banked the heat in his gaze. “And we’ll enjoy our time together all the more for the satisfaction of having helped the people here.”


	6. Chapter 6

After a hearty meal supplied by Mistress Miranda, Arthur and Merlin strolled through the town, speaking with the people they met and getting a picture of life here and finding that it benefitted the mayor much more than the other inhabitants of the village.

“Are you ready to beard a less agreeable dragon in his den?” Arthur asked, glancing as Merlin as he spoke and noting that his pair-mate looked ready to vaporize the mayor with a spell.

“I suppose turning him into the toad that he is would be frowned upon?” Merlin growled.

“Sending him packing will be more satisfying for both of us,” Arthur said firmly as they reached the mayor’s home, the well-maintained and manicured plot standing out against its poorer neighbors. The prince strode to the door and rapped smartly on it, seeming to have acquired a self-confidence even beyond what he had possessed before.

“I shouldn’t bet on it,” Merlin muttered, but much as he might wish otherwise, he knew that using magic against the mayor would only cause others to fear him. This time, it was far better to make use of Arthur’s power. Any Sword and Flare could have reported the mayor for his obvious abuse of his power, but only Albion’s prince could deal with him immediately. A cold smile curved Merlin’s lips as the door opened.

“Sir Sword, Sir Flare, is there something I can do for you?” the mayor asked, regarding them with surprise.

“You may hand over your chain of office,” the prince stated flatly.

The mayor gawked at him for a moment before laughing harshly. “Sword or not, you do not have the authority to make that demand, nor is there any reason for it even if you did.”

Merlin’s eyes were a bright gold as he took a single step forward. “You are being relieved of your office for your abysmal failure to fulfill your duties and for redirecting the village’s tax monies to your own pocket. And my pair-mate _does_ have the authority to remove you from office; he is, after all, the Crown Prince.”

“It can’t be!” The mayor’s squinty eyes widened, Arthur meeting his gaze levelly.

“I assure you, it can, and I am acting on my father’s behalf to remove you from your position. You have an hour to pack your belongings and to remove yourself from this official residence to your private residence—though considering the state of your finances, I wonder if that property will belong to you much longer.”

Merlin smirked at the former mayor. “You really were an idiot if you thought no one would ever notice your blatant theft.”

The man growled and balled up his fists at his sides, Arthur’s brows arching upward at the act. “I would think twice before trying anything of the sort. First of all, you are dealing with a trained Pair; which do you think will stop you, my hand or my pair-mate’s spell? And if you did by some miniscule chance manage to touch one of us, you would deal with the consequences of striking the heir or his pair-mate.”

“Which would mean that whichever one of us you didn’t hit would leave you as a smear on the ground,” Merlin added in a snarl, his eyes so bright that they seemed to cast shadows.

“You can’t do something like that!” the mayor exclaimed, his gaze darting back and forth between the two of them. “It’s against the king’s law.”

“You didn’t seem to be bothered with the king’s law when you were skimming from the taxes of those you were supposed to be watching over,” Arthur growled.

“And that _is_ against the king’s law. Be very careful, or you may find yourself in gaol,” Merlin warned, one hand on his pair-mate’s arm, seeking to calm both of them.

“Will,” Arthur said, his voice low and deadly serious.

“You have one hour from this moment to pack your personal belongings and remove yourself from the mayor’s residence,” Merlin informed the now former mayor, repeating Arthur’s earlier statement as it didn’t seem to have sunk in. “If you have not departed by then, _I_ will remove you.”

The mayor’s answer came out as a squeak, and he vanished into the residence that was no longer his home, shutting the door in their faces, an act that caused Arthur to glance over at Merlin.

“Set wards around the premises, will you, Pair-mate? We need to know if he tries to escape.”

“Oh, I really hope he does. Or tries to take something that doesn’t belong to him personally.” Merlin gave Arthur a truly evil smile.

“My love, you are a true master,” Arthur murmured, reaching up to stroke the back of his hand over Merlin’s cheek. “So, a town meeting then? They should have a voice in the choice of their new mayor, and we need to Search the children.”

Merlin started to reply and then stopped abruptly with a frown. He pulled out his tablet and messaged the Academy, his frown deepening when he received an answer moments later. “Would it surprise you to learn that this town has not been Searched in five years, not since Master Tanner became mayor?”

The muscle in Arthur’s jaw worked as he clenched his teeth together. “His list of crimes grows.”

“Once we are done with Little Islington, if we do not have another assignment immediately, I think we should check the records and the registry and make sure no other towns have been missed.”

“Or we can simply send notice back to the Proctor and Magister, and they can start to look into it immediately,” Arthur pointed out.

“Oh, of course. I’m glad one of us is thinking straight. I’m too busy reminding myself not to turn that toad into an actual toad.”

“And then I could squash him,” Arthur muttered before rubbing his hand over Merlin’s back. “But we can’t do that, so shall we concentrate on more pleasant tasks?”

“Such as Searching? Yes, let’s. I’ve noticed quite a few small magics while we’ve been here. I’m hopeful that some of the children will have the potential to become Flares.” Merlin glanced sidelong at Arthur. “And at the age some of them might be, it’s entirely possible that there may even be potential Pairs.”

Arthur nodded slowly at the comment, his thumb rubbing small circles against Merlin’s shoulder. “If that is the case, separating them when we take them back to Camelot is going to be an issue.”

Merlin shuddered at the idea of being separated from his pair-mate, even though he knew that the bond wouldn’t be likely to be fully formed yet in any of the children. “Yes, but we’ll deal with that if and when we have to. Or more accurately, Gaius and Lancelot will,” he said with a quick flash of a grin.

A quiet chuckle answered that remark before Arthur shook his head. “Perhaps we should have Gwen and Morgana act as their tutors.”

“I think Gaius and Lancelot do have that in mind,” Merlin said. “Otherwise, why would they be keeping a Pair of their skills at the Academy?”

“A good point; though it makes me shudder to think that they are being groomed for Gaius and Lancelot’s positions.”

Merlin turned and stared at him. “That’s rather disturbing. But fairly unlikely. I’d think it would be one or the other. It’s been centuries since a bonded Pair became Proctor and Magister. It helps them to have a pair-mate.”

“Morgana then, the Proctor is still young,” Arthur mused.

Merlin nodded. “It could be. I think she would do very well in the position.”

“Gods, what am I saying—Morgana in a position of power; we’d never get any rest!”

“Come along, Arthur,” Merlin chuckled. “You’re safe from Morgana for a while yet, and we have children to Search.”

“A summoning then perhaps?” Arthur offered. “It would be more productive than ringing the bell.”

“A very good idea,” Merlin agreed, his eyes flashing gold for an instant as they made their way to the town square. “We can also inform the townspeople of the new vacancy in the mayor’s office, and perhaps they can select the new one.”

“We should be glad that the village isn’t large, or simply gathering everyone would take more than a day.”

“We might never get out of here in that case. Fortunately, that’s not the issue. I’m just glad we’re able to help the people here.”

Arthur smiled at that and looked around the village square and the people who were beginning to gather. “That’s why I’m glad of who I am—or who we are.”

“Oh, very well, you were right,” Merlin said with a roll of his eyes. “But I’m still never going to be happy about people calling me prince.”

“I really doubt that will happen the majority of the time,” Arthur promised.

“I hope not, though I’ll admit that you’ve shown me it can be useful, and I’m not above using it.”

“Or me, I hope.”

Merlin’s smile turned sensual for a moment. “I’ll be happy to prove it to you again tonight. But right now, we have children to Search and hopefully an election to witness.”

“Task-master,” Arthur murmured as they walked toward the rough-hewn building that served to hold both festivals and meetings and the summer harvest as well. The Pair stood off to the side once they entered, watching as the villagers congregated, gathering in small groups and talking amongst themselves while they darted looks over at Merlin and Arthur.

“It seems you boys are turning the town on its ear,” Mistress Westerly said as she approached them.

“It seems past time someone did,” Merlin replied, looking around. “I don’t feel that anyone—aside from Master Tanner, of course—truly objects.”

“No, I don’t believe that will be the case.”

Arthur smiled at the older woman and looked at the villagers around them. “His loss will be the gain of all of you here.”

“Yes, it will be,” she agreed. “We are fortunate that you were the Pair sent here. No one else could have handled him so featly.”

Merlin shook his head. “No one else could have removed him immediately, but I assure you any Sword and Flare who spent more than a moment in his company would have had him investigated, and the end result would have been the same.”

“The other Pair was only in the village briefly before they went out to battle the dragon; they had no time to notice.”

“If they had returned, they would have realized the situation here,” Arthur said firmly.

“They were understandably distracted by what seemed to be a man-eating dragon,” Merlin added.

“Which they also didn’t manage to untangle the truth of,” Mistress Westerly pointed out.

“Something that cost them greatly,” Arthur said quietly.

“Yes, of course, that was a tragedy,” she agreed. “I simply meant that all Pairs are not created equal, even leaving aside your royal status.”

Merlin sighed. “No, but each Pair has their own talents and skills, and any loss is felt by us all.”

Arthur raised his hand and clasped Merlin’s shoulder, his expression somber. “If this has taught us one thing, it is that there must be more communication.” A group of children walked in together, herded by a tall, spare man who was more than likely the village’s teacher.

“That will be something else we will discuss when we return to the Academy,” Merlin said, obviously making a mental note. “But for the moment, I think there are some matters closer at hand to deal with.”

“If you will excuse us, Mistress Westerly,” Arthur said, inclining his head to her, a move that had the woman curtseying deeply in response. “Pair-mate, if you will join me?” Arthur strode toward the slightly raised portion of meeting hall and the silver-haired woman who stood slightly apart from the gathering.

“Priestess, I am—“

“Sword Arthur Pendragon and your Pair-mate Merlin Emrys; be welcome.”

Merlin stepped forward slightly. “We are here to witness if you are ready to choose your new mayor.”

The priestess inclined her head. “We are.” She turned to face the assembled populace, raising her hands for silence.

“Does anyone wish to put forth a name for consideration?”

The gathering was quiet, only the shuffling of feet and clearing of throats breaking the quiet before a voice spoke up from the back. “William Smithington.”

As if that was the signal they’d all been waiting for, several others called out as well.

“Robert Wheeler.”

“Anne Holcomb.”

“Miranda Westerly.”

“Owain Lethbridge.”

The priestess waited several moments to see if others would be nominated, but when no one else spoke up, the priestess nodded sharply. “Very well. Tablets will be distributed to each person, and you will mark the name of your choice.” She glanced back at Merlin. “My Lord Merlin, will you tally the ballots?”

“I will,” he replied formally.

The tablets were passed out, then gathered after each villager had indicated their vote. Arthur watched the proceedings, assuring that there were no extra votes cast, so that Merlin could add up the tallies.

“We have a tie,” Merlin announced, “between Master Smithington and Mistress Westerly. We will redistribute the tablets. Please cast your votes for one of these two people.”

The tablets were distributed again, the time it took to collect them all longer this time as people pondered their final choice. As Merlin counted the ballots again, Arthur’s attention was caught by the children and by the way several of the older ones were studying him in return.

A pair of boys in their mid teens edged nearer to where the priestess and Pair stood, their eyes on Arthur and Merlin all the while.

“The vote is close,” Merlin finally said, handing the tablets to the priestess to verify, “but we do have a clear winner. Mayor Westerly, please step forward and take your oath of service.”

Looking somewhat stunned, the woman did as directed, her spine straightening as she spoke the ritual words, swearing to serve the village and the king. A loud cheer greeted her oath, one that died away only when the priestess spoke again.

“It is now our honor to host a Search for those who would serve Albion and its people. All children above the age of five should come forward.”

The first to step forward were the two young men who had been watching the Pair so closely, and Merlin immediately smiled. “Do we even need to tell you that you’re talented?”

The shorter youth, a redhead who looked to be twelve or so, jutted his jaw. “We know, ain’t had anyone to teach us.”

“That will change soon.” Arthur reached for the boy’s right wrist, then paused. “If I may?” At the boy’s surprised nod, he gently pushed back the worn shirt sleeve and rested his hand on the skin beneath, closing his eyes to offer a prayer to the Goddess. When he moved his hand, the dark design of a hawk in flight marked the boy’s wrist.

“I welcome you, brother,” Arthur said formally, drawing out the final word, making it a question.

“Edward, your highness,” the other boy, a taller youth with dark hair and green eyes, replied. “He’s Edward Lancer.”

Merlin took hold of the dark-haired boy’s arm, his eyes flashing brightly for an instant and echoed more dimly in the youngster’s. When he drew his hand back, the skin bore the mark of a willow tree.

“Welcome...” he trailed off questioningly.

“Daffyd Gardiner, my lord.”

“We’re really to go to the Academy?” Edward nodded, reaching for Daffyd’s hand, both boys jumping as if they had been burned and staring down at their wrists—each of which now bore the other’s mark as well.

“Gods,” Arthur murmured as a cry went up from the villagers.

Merlin stared at the bonded Pair’s marks. “You know Gaius and Lancelot are going to make us responsible for this somehow, don’t you?” he groaned.

“We’re b-bonded?” Daffyd stuttered.

“You don’t want to be my pair-mate?” Edward asked, his brow furrowing.

Daffyd gave him a look that clearly questioned Edward’s sanity. “Of course I do! But we’re young and completely untrained.” He switched his gaze to Merlin, unconsciously pleading. “Will they let us stay together?”

“Daffyd, this is unprecedented since the founding of the Academy, that a bond completes itself before the training is done, but you _are_ bonded,” Merlin said simply. “No one will gainsay the Lady’s will.”

“How will they be trained if they are already bonded?” a ginger-haired man who had to be Edward’s father asked.

“The Magister and the Proctor will find a way,” Arthur said.

“They survived dealing with us; they can handle anything,” Merlin added wryly, making the young Pair and several of the other youngsters laugh along with many of the adults in the crowd.

“They survived you; I was no work at all.” Arthur’s grin was sly as he looked over at his pair-mate.

Merlin snorted. “You forget that I know you, Pair-mate. But we’ll discuss this in private,” he ended to general laughter.

Leaving the two boys in the care of their parents, Arthur and Merlin worked their way through the other youngsters, discovering another Sword in the form of a small, brown-haired girl in the midst of their Searching.

“Can I have your sword?” she asked impudently, and Arthur shook his head gently as he looked down at her.

“I’m afraid not, Kathryn; a Sword’s blade is personal to them, but in time you will find your own.”

“And you will someday find a Flare as well. In the meantime, you will learn to master your skills and make friends at the Academy,” Merlin said.

“I have to leave now?” Kathryn asked, her eyes growing wide.

Arthur shook his head, and he dropped to one knee so that he could look her in the eye. “How old are you, Kathryn?”

“Six, Sir Sword,” she said, now looking her age.

“Until you’re ready, you’ll be here with your parents, learning the basics. When you’re twelve, you’ll come to the Academy and really start training.”

“But Edward and Daffyd haven’t been trained,” she frowned. “They won’t know what to do!”

“They will receive extra training for the first while until they catch up with their age-mates,” Merlin reassured her, crouching down next to Arthur. “They will not lose out for having had their Search delayed. They’ll also receive some of the training reserved for bonded Pairs. They’ll quickly learn how things work at the Academy.”

“Will you work with them?” she challenged, and Arthur nodded.

“When we’re in residence, we’d be proud to.”

“And our friends Sword Guinevere and Flare Morgana will surely help as well, and they’re a lot of fun.” Merlin smiled at her.

“We have to learn from girls?” Edward muttered to Daffyd, and Kathryn rounded on them.

“They’re a Sword and a Flare! They know lots more than you!”

“I really wouldn’t suggest making remarks like that around any of the women at the Academy,” Merlin laughed, “but especially not Gwen and Morgana. Just ask Arthur how bad an idea that is.”

“Terrifying, really they are,” Arthur chuckled.

“At least if you’re Arthur,” Merlin put in conspiratorially. “They’re very nice to me.”

“They’ll be nice to you too,” Kathryn informed the young Pair.

“Blessed Lady, she’s a miniature Morgana,” Merlin murmured to Arthur, trying not to laugh.

“I do believe that I’m terrified,” Arthur said under his breath.

“Just imagine once she goes to the Academy,” Merlin chuckled.

“That is when we go live at the palace,” Arthur countered, making Merlin regard him with horror.

“Live at the palace?” he repeated, barely managing to keep his voice down to avoid attracting attention from the children and villagers who were still discussing the children’s futures.

“It’s protected,” Arthur shrugged, not wanting to bring up the point that sometime in the future they _would_ be residing in the palace—permanently.

Merlin manfully fought back a whimper, suddenly realizing that the heir should live in the palace, and the king eventually would have to. “Someday far, far in the future,” he said, sounding more hopeful than certain.

“Goddess grant and long live the king,” Arthur agreed, settling his arm around Merlin’s waist and his free hand resting on the hilt of his sword as the villagers started to get over their shyness and come nearer, hoping to speak to the Pair.

By the time everyone had had a chance to meet them, the day was already half gone, so when the villagers invited the Pair to stay another night and attend the celebration dinner for the new mayor, they gladly accepted.

Merlin and Arthur returned to Mayor Westerly’s home to rest and change while the townsfolk began the preparations for the festivities. Back in their room, Merlin dropped onto the bed and grinned up at Arthur.

“Now that’s a good day’s work, Pair-mate. Did you bring your formal gear with you in case of sudden celebrations?” he asked with a laugh. “Or shall I magic us up something new?”

“I really don’t think this will be a top hat and tails kind of gathering,” Arthur pointed out before dropping down half on, half beside Merlin. “And we both have semi-formal wear which should be quite adequate as you well know, Flare Merlin.” He punctuated the last with a nip at Merlin’s chin.

“Why, Sword Arthur, did you have something else in mind to fill the time till we should make our appearance?” Merlin asked archly, hooking his free leg over Arthur’s hip.

“What I have in mind will take much longer than the hour we have to freshen up and change,” Arthur sighed.

“That’s a shame, but I’m sure we can find _something_ to do,” Merlin purred.

“Hrmm, yes,” Arthur chuckled, dipping his head to drag his mouth over Merlin’s neck.

“Yes, that’s a very good start,” Merlin said with an audible shiver, reaching for the laces on Arthur’s leather jacket.

Arthur hummed in pleasure, twisting to allow Merlin to remove his jacket then going to work on the leaner man’s jacket as well, his mouth never leaving the juncture of his neck and shoulder.

“Gods, you’re going to make me come from just that, aren’t you?” Merlin groaned, tugging at the lacings on Arthur’s trousers with unsteady fingers.

“Mmm, I’ll have to try that some time.” Arthur’s words ghosted over the damp mark he’d raised on Merlin’s neck, the color ruddy against his pale skin. His hips bucked as Merlin’s knuckles brushed against the bulge at his groin, and Arthur groaned, the sound rumbling through his chest.

“I have the very best Sword.” Merlin finally managed to get Arthur’s trousers unfastened and slid a hand inside, lightly fingering the rigid flesh.

“And you have a very deft hand with it,” Arthur gasped.

“A superior weapon deserves superior handling.”

“Feel free to handle it all you want.” Arthur pushed open Merlin’s jacket and slid his hands under the soft white linen shirt beneath it, dragging over Merlin’s chest.

“I plan to,” Merlin assured him, arching his back and pressing into the touch like a cat. “And all the rest of you too.”

“Mmm,” Arthur’s fingers grazed over Merlin’s nipples, pinching and rolling until they peaked beneath his touch, “sounds like fun.”

“You have good hands too,” Merlin panted, shivering, his eyes flaring as he lost patience and got rid of their clothes.

“Goddess yes,” Arthur groaned as Merlin’s hand closed fully around him, his hips driving downward, catching Merlin’s hand between their bodies.

Merlin chuckled darkly, his eyes bright as he watched Arthur’s reactions, and he kissed the Sword hard while slowly pumping him. Arthur’s breath rasped harshly into Merlin’s mouth as his hands flexed against the lean chest beneath him, and his knees skidded on the worn sheets.

“Lord and Lady, I wish we had more time, but fucking right before dancing is probably not a good idea. But later tonight...” Merlin trailed off suggestively, his hand beginning to move a little faster.

Arthur groaned in response, and he slammed his mouth down over Merlin’s again as he gave in to the need to thrust, driving forward in counterpoint to Merlin’s grip, his body suddenly tensing before he shuddered and gouted hot liquid over Merlin’s belly.

“Oh yes,” Merlin said throatily, his eyes hot as he watched Arthur come undone. “Perfect.” He wasn’t even aware of the way he was rocking against Arthur’s thigh, something the prince realized after a few moments, and he grinned lazily as he lifted his head and looked down at Merlin, then crawled backwards, flicking his tongue over the taut nubs of Merlin’s nipples. He worked lower and closed his mouth over Merlin’s cock, sucking strongly and groaning at the flavor while Merlin cried out and thrust up into his mouth.

“Arthur!” He grabbed at his pair-mate’s shoulders, unconsciously kneading the taut muscles as he rocked upward, his cock slipping deeper into Arthur’s throat, the muscles working as he swallowed. Merlin wailed, the sudden sensation driving him over the edge, and his fingers tightened on Arthur’s shoulders as he came.

Arthur pulled back just enough so that he could taste the liquid flooding his mouth, sighing in pleasure at the flavor. Giving Merlin’s softening cock a final lick, he looked up and smiled at his pair-mate. “Perfect.”

“ _We’re_ perfect,” Merlin said, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

“Most definitely.” Arthur crawled back upward and rolled to his back, pulling Merlin over on top of him and sighing in pleasure at the contact.

“Let’s just lie here for a bit, yeah?” Merlin suggested, resting his head comfortably on Arthur’s shoulder. “I think I like this part as much as the sex.”

“Most definitely,” Arthur murmured as he ran his hand over Merlin’s back. “I love holding you like this.”

“And I love being held. I didn’t realize how much I needed this until I found you,” Merlin said softly.

“The other half of me,” Arthur breathed, pressing a kiss against Merlin’s hair.

“Yes,” Merlin agreed, pressing close. “I couldn’t survive without you now.”

“It’s a good thing that you don’t have to.”

“Yes, it is.” Merlin raised his head to grin at Arthur. “No one else would be able to deal with you.”

“Was that supposed to be amusing?”

“I thought it was very amusing. But if it makes you feel better, I don’t think anyone else could put up with me either.”

Arthur smiled and brushed a hand over Merlin’s cheek. “There’s no ‘putting up’ with you.”

“I think most people would disagree with you... but that’s why we’re perfect for each other.” Merlin leaned into Arthur’s touch.

“Mmm and here I thought it was because my dragon was fixated on your tree.”

Merlin laughed. “That helps. It’s fortunate for me that there aren’t any Flares with girl dragon marks,” he added with a chuckle.

“I don’t think that would have distracted my dragon one bit.”

“Good answer.” Merlin beamed at him. “Your dragon has very good taste.”

“As if your tree doesn’t?” Arthur asked.

“My tree is obviously a genius when it comes to taste,” Merlin assured him laughingly, and Arthur caught his wrist, bringing it to his mouth so that he could lick the marked skin there.

“And it tastes rather good as well.”

Merlin shivered and pressed closer. “I’m very glad to hear it. You and your dragon taste really good too.”

Arthur groaned and bit at the thin skin of Merlin’s wrist before pulling back with regret. “If we keep this up, we’re going to be late for the celebration, which would lead to us getting a bad reputation.”

“There are times when I hate being responsible,” Merlin sighed. “But we’ll maintain the reputation of the royal family and Swords and Flares both.” He sat up reluctantly, one hand still resting on Arthur’s hip.

“And perhaps enjoy a dance or two while we do so,” Arthur said, catching Merlin’s hand in his and kissing it before sitting up and nudging Merlin from the bed so that they could clean up and get dressed.

“Oh, definitely a dance. I’m fairly certain that’s part of your duty as my pair-mate,” Merlin informed him as he moved toward the basin to wash up quickly before he could make his way to the common washroom.

“One of the most pleasurable ones,” Arthur murmured, watching him move.

Merlin glanced over his shoulder with a grin. “As long as I don’t step on your feet.”

“If you do, I’ll throw you over my shoulder and continue.”

Merlin stopped and turned around to stare at him before bursting into laughter. “It would certainly give the villagers something to talk about for the next generation.”

“As if this day hasn’t already,” Arthur chuckled.

“Yes, they don’t need to see you dragging me off like some pillaging Viking,” Merlin laughed. “Though I wouldn’t mind it so much,” he admitted before finally leaving the room to go bathe. Much as he’d rather stay with his pair-mate, he didn’t think they should smell of sex when they joined the celebration.

~*~

 “Hold still and let me tie that,” Arthur chuckled as he expertly tied Merlin’s cravat in the waterfall style and added his ruby stickpin to hold it in place. “There, what did you ever do without me?”

“I didn’t need to dress up,” Merlin pointed out dryly. “Fortunately, you have benefits that outweigh the aggravations of all the pomp and circumstance.”

“You’re a Flare of Albion,” Arthur explained patiently, “no matter your pair-mate you would have had to dress up occasionally; I just require more occasions than most.”

“ _Many_ more,” Merlin corrected, “but since I intend to keep you, I shall just have to bear up under the burden.”

“Just imagine the benefits—being able to get me out of all this clothing after whatever event it is, is over,” Arthur pointed out.

Merlin did imagine it and shivered. “Stop that or we won’t make it to the festivities,” he warned sternly.

“Yes, Flare Merlin,” Arthur chuckled before leaning in and giving Merlin a lightning quick kiss. “So, shall we?”

Laughing, Merlin slid an arm around Arthur’s waist and drew him toward the door. “We shall. Before someone comes looking for us.”

“Yes, Flare Merlin,” Arthur repeated with a wink and a grin.

“Remember that response for later,” Merlin ordered as they walked outside, pausing to take in the sight of the village decorated for a celebration. Long tables had been set up in the town square, outside the communal building, adorned by wildflowers and other greenery. Steaming dishes sat atop them, more being brought out every moment as the villagers made their way to the gathering.

The pair-mates were greeted with warmth by the villagers, and they fell into easy conversation with those who approached them, the number growing as the night drew on and people relaxed around them. After the meal had been eaten, musicians took the stage, beating out country reels and drawing the adults and some of the children into the revelry.

“Well, Pair-mate?” Arthur grinned, looking over at Merlin and grinning. “Would you care to dance?”

“I’d be delighted,” Merlin replied, extending his hand for Arthur’s with a wide smile that Arthur returned as he pulled Merlin toward the open area to join in the reel.

“My pair-mate is the best dancer here,” Merlin said, smiling at Arthur as he slid into the Sword’s arms.

“He also has the most handsome partner,” Arthur murmured as they moved through the repetitive patterns of the dance.

“It’s fitting for the strongest Flare of our generation,” Merlin assured him.

“The strongest Flare is also the most handsome? I am a very lucky man.”

“You’re the only one who could keep up with me.”

“And the only one who ever will,” Arthur promised.

“The only one I would want to.” Merlin grinned at him as they danced, enjoying the festivities free from duty.

Arthur let out a peal of laughter at that remark and gave Merlin a quick kiss before the musicians started a new song, a jaunty tune that soon had them changing partners.

The hours passed with a series of country dances and occasional pauses to catch their breath, both Merlin and Arthur enjoying themselves as much as the villagers. They were walking toward the table holding the punch bowl when a cry from the far side of the crowd drew their attention.

Arthur glanced over at Merlin, and his hand dropped to the hilt of his sword as the sound was repeated, this time from several voices. “Come on, let’s nip this in the bud,” he said.

Merlin nodded, remaining by his Sword’s side as they made their way toward the disturbance. “You think the former mayor has decided he doesn’t want to be former?”

“You locked him into his residence; how could he have escaped?”

“I don’t know, yet, but do you really think this one sleepy village is going to have problems with a dragon, a corrupt mayor _and_ some other issue all at the same time?”

“Stranger things have happened,” Arthur said dryly as he bulled his way through the milling crowd to come face-to-face with the ex-mayor, who was waving a rifle at the people surrounding him.

“The village is mine. Mine!” he shouted. “It was promised to me, and none shall take it from me!”

“The village belongs to no one,” Arthur said calmly, motioning for the villagers to back away from the madman.

“And no one could promise it to anyone,” Merlin added. “Mayors are chosen by the people for whom they speak.” He observed the situation and remained where he was, sure that Arthur could handle one overweight, angry man on his own.

“It was promised to me!” Tanner screamed, swinging the rifle in Arthur’s direction and starting to pull the trigger before a surprised expression appeared on his face. He slumped to the ground, a small hole in the center of his forehead.

The prince lowered his hand, a wisp of smoke rising from the small derringer that slid back into place against the inside of his left wrist. “I would have liked to have known what he meant by that,” he murmured.

“As would I,” Merlin agreed, moving to his pair-mate’s side. “I would imagine that Mordred and Morgause might have something to do with it since they were responsible for disturbing the dragon. Though it begs the question why they are so intent on fomenting trouble in this area.”

“And if they were the ones to let him loose,” Arthur frowned, the skin around his eyes tight as he surveyed the slowly emptying square.

“That would explain how he got through my shield,” Merlin said slowly, his eyes intent on Arthur’s face. “Are you all right?”

“Hrmm?” Arthur asked before nodding. “Fine, he didn’t get a shot off. I suppose we should examine the body; can you tell if he’s been around other magic?”

Merlin frowned, but he let it lie for the moment. He would discuss the death with Arthur once they were alone. Turning his attention to the body, he murmured a spell, his eyes turning gold and drawing gasps from the townspeople. After a moment he nodded. “Yes. I’m not familiar with the feel of the Flare responsible, but someone did touch him with magic. And I’ll recognize that Flare if I ever encounter him or her.”

“Good to hear it,” Arthur murmured before drawing in a deep breath and turning back to the remaining villagers. “My apologies for not seeing this threat for what it was.”

“How could you?” Mayor Westerly asked reasonably. “We’ve lived with him all our lives, and none of saw how he’d been twisted or ever imagined he might do such a thing.”

“Because it is our duty to see such things,” Arthur stated, sounding much older than his years.

“You lads are talented, but you’re not the Horned God himself,” the mayor informed them, sounding to Merlin’s ears remarkably like his mother. “No one could have expected more of you.”

“You saved us,” little Kathryn said, squirming past her parents and looking up at Arthur and Merlin.

Arthur cleared his throat and flushed at the mild chiding from the new mayor and the young Sword’s statement.

Merlin just smirked at the prince, not about to begin arguing with Mistress Westerly.

“Pair-mate, if you could do something with the body?” Arthur suggested.

“Does he have any family who would wish to hold a ceremony for him?” Merlin asked the mayor. Reassured by a shake of her head, he spoke the words of blessing as he glanced at the corpse which suddenly was enshrouded in flames burning with a blue heat, even though not even the person closest to the body felt any escaping warmth. In a matter of moments, all that was left was ashes, and a convenient gust of wind soon scattered them away in the natural order.

“Thank you for taking care of that, Flare Merlin,” Mayor Westerly said quietly, studying the two young men closely. “Would you care to return to the festivities?”

Merlin glanced at Arthur, one eyebrow raised questioningly.

“Of course.” It was plainly the prince and not the Sword speaking, and Arthur’s smile when he looked back at Merlin was tight. “Pair-mate?” The word was spoken as he offered Merlin his arm.

Merlin took Arthur’s arm, moving close to him as they made their way back to the town square. He wanted to get Arthur alone, but perhaps it would do the Sword good to unwind and enjoy himself some first.

“Do you want anything to eat?” Arthur asked, looking over at Merlin as they approached the still well-laden tables.

“I wouldn’t mind some more of that rice pudding,” Merlin decided, turning them toward it.

“Then we’ll get you some of it.” Arthur’s smile was still tight as they retrieved a bowl of the creamy dessert, and he helped himself to a glass full of hard cider.

Back at their seats, Merlin made sure to press up against Arthur’s side, offering comfort if his pair-mate needed it. “We don’t have to stay,” he said softly, glancing sidelong at Arthur.

“We do,” Arthur answered quietly, resting his hand on Merlin’s thigh, “it is our duty.”

“We’ve done our duty, Arthur. We’re allowed some time for ourselves... and to come to terms with killing a man,” Merlin finished very softly.

“We do not show weakness!” Arthur snapped, straightening up and glaring at the younger man.

“Oh, Arthur.” Merlin shook his head slightly, but he settled back into his seat. “We’ll stay as long as you wish.”

“’Oh Arthur’ what?”

“Sometimes I wish we’d met years earlier.”

Arthur frowned at that remark. “Why? We wouldn’t have paired; we were too young.”

“I think you could have benefited from some time with my parents when we were younger. And tell Daffyd and Edward that they’re too young to pair,” Merlin added dryly.

“Obviously they weren’t too young to pair, but those are extraordinary circumstances! And are you saying there was something lacking in my upbringing?”

Merlin sighed. “Arthur, your father is a great king, and he raised you to be a great king. I’m not so convinced that he was an equally great father, and you obviously didn’t have a mother.”

Arthur’s mouth closed with an almost audible snap, and he lurched to his feet. “If you will excuse me,” he said formally before striding hurriedly out of the square and into the darkness beyond.

With another sigh, Merlin got to his feet and followed his pair-mate, allowing the bond to draw him toward the errant prince. “Arthur?” he called softly.

Silence was his only answer before the prince spoke from behind the tree he was leaning against. “What is it?”

“I wasn’t trying to hurt you, Arthur. But there are times when you’re allowed to be the man rather than the prince or Sword,” Merlin said quietly.

“And when would those times be?” Arthur asked, his voice tight.

“When there’s nothing requiring the prince or Sword and the man needs some time to deal with something that’s happened. I’d never suggest ignoring your duty, you know that, Arthur, but it doesn’t fill every second of every day.”

“I cannot help who I was raised to be,” Arthur said quietly, holding out a hand to catch Merlin’s and pull him close, resting his forehead against Merlin’s shoulder as his body convulsed.

“And I wouldn’t want you to be anyone else,” Merlin assured him. “But sometimes, it’s all right for you to lean on me.” He held Arthur tightly, stroking his back comfortingly.

“I’ve never killed anyone before,” Arthur rasped without raising his head from Merlin’s shoulder.

Merlin nodded. “I suspected as much. I would think less of you, Arthur, if it did _not_ bother you. And one of these days, our positions will be reversed, because eventually I too will have to kill someone. But this is part of why we have Pairs, so we always have someone to lean on.”

“Hopefully not for a long time.” Arthur raised his head, his blue eyes bright in the moonlight. “I am sorry for snapping at you.”

“You’re allowed. I’m always here for you, Arthur.”

“Something I thank the Goddess for.”

Merlin’s arms tightened around Arthur. “You’ll never be without me.”

Arthur swallowed and tightened his arms around Merlin’s waist. “Perhaps we should go back to the boarding house now; I don’t believe I’m in the mood for the celebration any longer.”

“I think that’s a very good idea,” Merlin agreed, leading Arthur away from the gathering, circling around the town to get to the boarding house. Arthur followed complacently, leaning against Merlin’s side though his gaze searched the darkness around them in case anyone appeared.

They reached Mayor Westerly’s home without encountering anyone along the way, and Merlin led Arthur directly to their room. “Bed or would you like a bath first?”

“A bath would be good,” Arthur allowed, “would you mind bringing one into our room?”

Initially startled, Merlin quickly realized that Arthur wanted the privacy of their room rather than chance running into Mistress Westerly. “Of course,” he murmured before casting the spell to create one in front of the hearth and filling it with steaming water.

“Thank you, Merlin,” Arthur murmured as he slowly began to remove his weapons, setting them on the table near the wardrobe, then moving on to his clothes.

Merlin shed his clothes as well and climbed into the tub, leaning against the back. Once comfortable, he held his arms out to Arthur, who climbed in as well, settling back against Merlin’s chest and letting out a deep breath as he rested his head on Merlin’s shoulder, turning his face to press against the Flare’s throat.

Merlin drew the sponge over Arthur’s chest, his cheek resting against the blond head. “I love you,” he whispered.

“And I, you,” Arthur breathed. “Why would he have come to the square? He was going to be sent on his way; what could that have accomplished except for his death?”

“When we catch up with Mordred, we’ll ask him that. Right before I destroy him,” Merlin vowed. Though they had no proof as yet, it was likely that Mordred and Morgause were behind this village’s troubles.

“As much as I hope that we find them, I also hope that it doesn’t come to that.”

Merlin didn’t comment, but if he found that Mordred had sent the former mayor to attack them simply to force Arthur to kill him, he _would_ destroy the rogue Flare. He distracted Arthur by sliding the sponge lower, Arthur sighing in response and reaching down to stroke his hand over Merlin’s thigh.

Merlin smiled and let go of the sponge to curl his fist around Arthur’s still soft cock, gently petting him.

“Is this by way of relaxing or distracting me?” Arthur murmured.

“Both of course,” Merlin purred against his ear. “I’m very goal-oriented.”

“So I’ve noticed.” Arthur kissed Merlin’s throat again, allowing himself to forget the evening’s events and simply concentrate on his pair-mate.

Merlin moaned softly, his head falling back against the rim of the tub to bare his throat to Arthur.

“Taste so good,” Arthur murmured, pulling back enough to lick the tendon that was standing out beneath Merlin’s skin, groaning himself as he began to fill.

“You taste better,” Merlin disagreed, his fingertips dancing over Arthur’s hardening flesh. “Feel better to.”

“How do you know that I taste better than you do? Do you make it a habit to taste yourself?”

“Nothing could taste better than you. And of course I’ve tasted myself.” Merlin rolled his eyes. “Are you going to tell me that you’ve never licked your hand after stroking yourself off?”

“No!” Arthur yelped, his nose wrinkling against Merlin’s neck.

Merlin laughed. “Are you sure you’re male, Arthur?”

“Of course I’m sure I’m a male—and you’re sure as well!”

“Yes, dear,” Merlin said soothingly. “Just because you have girlish qualms doesn’t make you less of a man.”

The sound that emerged from Arthur’s throat at that statement sounded remarkably like the throaty roar the lion in Camelot’s zoo gave when his evening meal was late.

“Mmm, that was really hot. Can you do it again whenever you want?”

Arthur’s response was to bite at the skin that he had been licking earlier, making Merlin shiver and moan.

“You are an idiot,” Arthur growled. “It’s a very good thing I love you.”

“I have to agree,” Merlin said, somehow pressing even closer along Arthur’s back.

“That you’re an idiot?” Arthur asked, his hand sliding back along Merlin’s leg so that he could knead the lean muscle of his ass.

“I must be to love you,” Merlin snorted, his hand moving more rapidly along Arthur’s length.

“Just means...” Arthur gasped and bit at Merlin’s throat again, “that you’re brilliant.”

“We’re brilliant. Together.” Merlin groaned and thrust against Arthur, his cock sliding between the blond’s cheeks.

The sound Arthur made may have been an attempt at a word, he wasn’t quite sure; he simply gave himself over to sensation, arching up into Merlin’s hand and back against his cock, not sure which sensation was more pleasurable.

“Want to be in you,” Merlin whispered.

Arthur wet his lips and nodded wordlessly, his fingers tightening on Merlin’s hip as they still moved together. Gasping softly, Merlin reached between them with the hand not currently occupied with Arthur’s cock to lightly stroke Arthur’s opening.

“We need to move this to the bed then. I’m not taking you for the first time in the bath,” Merlin panted.

“Probably for the best,” Arthur murmured, slowly beginning to move and get to his feet, the water sheeting from his body as he did so.

“Oh Lord and Lady, you’re gorgeous,” Merlin whispered, running a hand up Arthur’s leg before rising to his feet as well.

“Take me then,” Arthur rasped as they both stepped from the bath.

Merlin pulled Arthur close and kissed him thoroughly, his hands skimming over Arthur’s body as they edged toward the bed without letting go of each other or breaking the kiss.

Feeling the edge of the bed frame against his leg, Arthur caught Merlin in a hug, sending them both tumbling toward the bed in a controlled fall that ended with Merlin cradled between his thighs.

Merlin sprawled on top of his Sword, rocking down against the erection pressing into him. He stretched out a hand, and the small jar of oil they’d left on the nightstand behind a sight shield flew into his hand.

“Are you sure you know how to do this?” Arthur asked, a breathless chuckle escaping his lips as he ran his hands up and down Merlin’s sides.

“I think I can muddle along,” Merlin assured him. He pressed a kiss to Arthur’s lips and slid a now slick finger between the Sword’s cheeks until he could slowly press it inside Arthur.

Arthur sucked in a quick breath, his body tensing before relaxing as Merlin slid his finger deeper within him. “Muddle away then,” he gasped.

“You feel so good,” Merlin whispered, curling his finger inside Arthur to stroke over the bump that made him feel so good when Arthur touched it inside him.

“Oh Lord and Lady!” Arthur gasped, pressing his feet to the mattress, his back arching up off the now damp sheets.

Merlin beamed with delight at Arthur’s reaction and drew back just long enough to knit two fingers together and press them both into Arthur, the blond groaning and arching again, his breath coming in short pants as he slowly relaxed around the new intrusion.

“Can’t wait to be inside you,” Merlin whispered, kissing Arthur as he slowly pumped his fingers in and out.

“So be there,” Arthur gasped, his fingers digging into Merlin’s back as he gripped the leaner man more tightly.

Merlin could only nod and slick himself up with his free hand. Then his fingers were gone, and he was pushing into Arthur, groaning at the unbelievable heat and tightness surrounding him.

Arthur’s eyes widened, and he gasped, hitching his legs up and around Merlin’s lean hips as he tried not to squirm at the fullness.

“Okay?” Merlin panted, fighting the urge to move.

“Will be,” Arthur rasped. “What about you?” The last was said with a half-laugh.

“Never better,” Merlin assured him.

“Then perhaps you might want to move?”

“Brilliant idea,” Merlin decided, slowly drawing back until he was in danger of slipping completely out of Arthur and then pushing forward again until he couldn’t get any deeper.

“That’s because I am brilliant,” Arthur groaned, experimentally tightening down around Merlin, then grinning at the resulting gasp.

“Oh, that’s good,” Merlin groaned, moving faster and reaching down to stroke Arthur’s cock in counterpoint to his thrusts.

Arthur nodded wordlessly in agreement, canting his hips to increase the sensation for both of them, though the closer he came to his orgasm, the harder it became to concentrate on just what he was doing.

“Love you,” Merlin whispered, staring into Arthur’s eyes as the pleasure mounted in both of them.

“Al- ah!” Arthur gasped as pleasure rolled through him, causing his vision to blur and his body to spasm around Merlin’s length. The rippling convulsions tore a cry from Merlin, and he drove into Arthur only a few more times before he was coming as well, slumping over his pair-mate as the spasms ebbed.

“That was... quite a bit of all right actually,” Arthur murmured once their breathing had slowed.

Merlin nodded, his head still lying on Arthur’s shoulder. “Yeah, it was. We’ll have to try it both ways a lot more to decide which we like better.”

“Mmm, yes, once each way really doesn’t give us an accurate representation.”

“Exactly, and we have to give each a fair try.”

“As well as the other ways there are,” Arthur reminded him.

“This is going to be _fun_!”

Arthur chuckled at the reaction, then his expression slipped as the evening’s earlier events intruded on him again. “Yes, and I imagine we’ll need that fun,” he murmured.

“Yes, we will. But we’ll be able to face the other things because we’ll know that we have this, have each other.”

“Something I’m very thankful for.” Arthur stroked his hands over Merlin’s back and let his legs slide back to the mattress alongside Merlin’s. Taking advantage of Arthur’s movement, Merlin carefully withdrew from him and then settled himself comfortably atop his Sword.

“Me too,” Merlin said, lazily petting Arthur’s chest, what little wasn’t under him. “We’re very, very good together.”

“Would you mind being a very, very good little Flare and cleaning us up? I’m not sure that I’m able to move at the current time.”

“You have the best ideas,” Merlin mumbled, his eyes half closed. “I really didn’t want to move.”

“And I don’t want to let you go.”

“Convenient for both of us that you don’t have to.”

“Mmm,” Arthur murmured, his eyes closing as he laced his fingers together at the small of Merlin’s back, holding him close.

Merlin smiled and pressed a kiss to Arthur’s chest before falling asleep, perfectly content.


	7. Chapter 7

Merlin stood with his arm around Arthur’s waist, watching Daffyd and Edward’s parents hug their children and make their farewells. “We’ll have to bring the families to Camelot for the solstice celebration.”

“We can do that,” Arthur assured him before smiling slightly when young Kathryn approached the Pair and lectured them on their behavior while in Camelot.

“Aren’t you glad she’s not any older?” Merlin asked in an undertone. “Otherwise, you know she’d end up as your queen.”

“Bloody hell, I have Morgana and you bossing me around; I don’t need someone else with the same proclivities!”

Merlin snickered. “It’s good for you.”

“Idiot.”

“But I’m your idiot.”

“Thankfully, yes, you are.”

“Just like you’re my prat.”

Arthur chuckled and, seeing that the families were looking toward them, led Merlin over to them. “We’ll have the lads message you once they’re settled in at the Academy.”

“They’re going to enjoy their time there,” Merlin added. “And you’ll be able to visit them, and they you, once they’ve settled in.”

“Take care of them,” Daffyd’s mother whispered, raising a handkerchief to dab at her eyes and making both boys shift uncomfortably.

“We will,” Merlin promised her, nudging the boys toward the train. “They’ll do you proud.”

Climbing the steps to the railcar drew another round of farewells and a ragged cheer from the assembled villagers. Once they were inside, Edward and Daffyd went to the windows and pulled a pair open so they could lean out and wave.

Arthur collapsed into one of the seats, realizing belatedly that perhaps he should have been more careful in his actions.

Merlin turned a snigger into a cough. “Are you all right, Pair-mate?” he asked, trying to keep a straight face.

Arthur’s glower was answer enough, and his lips pressed together as the train lurched into motion, gaining speed as it headed out of the station.

“I’ll make it up to you tonight,” Merlin promised quietly, sitting down next to him.

“If you do that, I may not walk for a week!”

“That’s not what I meant!” Merlin exclaimed loudly enough to draw the attention of the two youngsters, though the scenery outside the window quickly distracted them again.

“Then you should say what you mean, Pair-mate,” Arthur said blandly.

“Somewhat difficult at this moment,” Merlin pointed out dryly, causing Arthur to chuckle in response.

“A very good point, you’ll have to explain once we get back to our rooms.”

“I’ll make a note of it.” Merlin reached over, interlacing his fingers with Arthur’s.

“Pardon me,” Edward asked, when he finally looked away from the window, “how long will we be travelling?”

“The trip to Camelot is six hours, so it will be evening before we arrive in the city,” Arthur answered easily.

“And we’ll get you settled into the Academies once we do. The Proctor and the Magister are expecting you,” Merlin added.

“And they understand your situation.”

Daffyd looked at Edward and reached for his hand, holding on tightly. “They’ll let us see each other sometimes?” he asked almost pitifully.

“I’m sure that your situation will be taken into consideration,” Arthur said gently, rubbing his thumb over the back of Merlin’s hand as he spoke. “You are paired; they can’t and won’t separate you.”

“But you will have to get used to not being together all the time,” Merlin warned. “You each have different things to learn, so you will have your studies at your own Academy.”

Edward nodded slowly at that. “I don’t want to let you down,” he said glancing over at Daffyd, his brown eyes serious. “I’ll work at my studies to become the best Sword in Albion.”

Daffyd hugged him quickly. “You couldn’t ever let me down. And you’re the very best—the only—Sword for me, but the best...” His eyes cut to Arthur, who simply arched his eyebrows at the youth in return, then gave a quicksilver grin.

“Everyone has their strengths and weaknesses—I’m sure Merlin will expound on mine before our trip is over,” he chuckled. “But you balance each other out; that is why you bonded.”

Daffyd smiled. “My mum would say it was because no one else would have either of us.”

Merlin laughed. “Let’s hope she doesn’t ever meet my mum then. It sounds like they have much too much in common.”

“Perhaps it’s a mother thing,” Arthur mused, “or a mother of Flares trait.”

Chuckling, Merlin laid a hand on Arthur’s leg. “I think it’s a mother thing. My friend Will’s mum was just the same, and Will’s got as much talent as a stump.”

“Will?” Arthur asked, the underlying growl in his voice causing both youngsters to stare at him, eyes wide.

Merlin bit his lip to keep a straight face and had to wait a moment before speaking. “Yes, a good friend from my childhood. He comes to visit occasionally if he’s free when my mum and dad do.” He eyed Arthur, who was looking rather red in the face. “Sometimes he brings his betrothed with him as well. Linelle’s a lovely girl.”

Arthur’s growing anger deflated at that statement, and he managed a sheepish look before clearing his throat. “How... pleasant for him.”

Daffyd and Edward exchanged bewildered looks at the adults’ antics.

“Yes, it is. Their wedding is in the autumn; we’ll have to get them something special.” Merlin was doing an admirable job of keeping a straight face.

“Restraints for you,” Arthur muttered under his breath, sure that only Merlin could hear him, though by Daffyd’s widening eyes the young Flare had caught the remark as well.

Merlin eyed him. “You have very interesting ideas of what makes an appropriate gift.” He finally lost his battle against laughter, and the peals filled the car, Arthur looking vexed until he too began laughing, collapsing against Merlin’s side as the boys looked on in amazement.

“I’m starting to understand my mum’s point of view,” Daffyd muttered to Edward.

“Promise we’ll never be that odd,” Edward muttered back, eyeing the other Pair oddly.

Daffyd nodded vigorously. “They’re right barmy!”

“You’re ruining my reputation,” Arthur finally chuckled, poking Merlin in the side.

“I think you’re doing that quite well all on your own, my mad Sword.”

“And look who is talking, you’ve raised the bar on the reputation Flares have for eccentricity,” Arthur laughed, causing Edward to look over at Daffyd again.

“You’re going to become eccentric—and what does that mean?”

“I think it means dotty, like old Widow Tewes who talks to her teapot,” Daffyd said, making Merlin turn his face into Arthur’s shoulder to muffle his snort of laughter.

“That had best not happen to you!” Now Edward sounded horrified. “If that’s what going to the Academy does to you, we’re going to get off the train now!”

“No, that personality trait is native to my dear Merlin,” Arthur assured them, “though he seems to have rubbed off on me as well.”

“And I do _not_ talk to teapots!”

“Just bedposts,” Arthur told the boys.

Daffyd looked appalled and darted a glance at the door, making Merlin whack Arthur in the ribs.

“Behave! Don’t mind him, boys; he thinks he’s funny.”

“Thinks?” Arthur sputtered while Edward clutched Daffyd’s hand tighter. “Fine, fine, I’m sorry, lads, I’m just relieved that our mission is over and we’re returning home.”

“Yes, this has been rather much for a first mission,” Merlin muttered.

“ _First_?” Daffyd exclaimed, looking terrified, and Merlin hastened to reassure him.

“A Pair’s abilities are always taken into consideration before they’re assigned a mission, don’t worry.”

“And this was not planned; most Pairs are sent out with a more experienced Pair for their first foray,” Arthur added. “Apparently, we are unique.”

“Or so everyone keeps telling us. But regardless, as you can see, we handled the mission,” Merlin finished.

“Yes, we did,” Arthur nodded.

~*~

Hours later the train arrived in Camelot, and Merlin and Arthur got the boys settled in the room they had been assigned. “If only we could collapse as well,” Arthur sighed, “but the Magister, the Proctor, and the king await.”

“Wouldn’t it be lovely to be ordinary?” Merlin sighed. “Wait, the king?”

“He will want to be apprised of this new threat to Albion,” Arthur pointed out.

“Ah. Yes.” Merlin sighed again. “I suppose I’m going to have to get used to talking to him eventually.”

“You did fine the last time you spoke,” Arthur reminded him. “Simply stand your ground.” He pulled the leaner man to him in a hug before steering him out of the building and toward the waiting carriage.

“Much easier when it’s you I’m defending,” Merlin admitted morosely. “Ah well, he can’t actually have me executed. I’m sure it’ll work out.” He did, however, press closer to Arthur’s side as they settled in the carriage.

“It will, for I can’t get my father angry at me each time we meet simply to make you more comfortable.” Arthur kissed the top of Merlin’s head after he spoke, then shifted again and muttered about badly cushioned seats.

Merlin had to chuckle at Arthur’s comment as well as his shifting about, and he murmured a spell that had the seats vastly improved a moment later.

“Thank you,” Arthur sighed, relaxing against him. The Pair spent the rest of their drive in silence until they reached the palace and descended the steps from the carriage to enter the building, Arthur leading Merlin to the audience room where Lancelot, Gaius, and Ambrosius waited.

Merlin looked around, seeming somewhat surprised. “The king will not be here for the briefing?”

“The king will be informed of your arrival,” Lancelot said calmly, motioning for the younger men to take seats at the heavy rectangular table.

Arthur eyed the unpadded chairs and bit back a sigh before explaining his father’s absence to Merlin. “The king does not wait on anyone; we await his pleasure.”

“Oh.” Merlin looked like he wanted to roll his eyes, but he refrained and took a seat. His eyes flared briefly just before Arthur sat, only to stand again moments later when Uther entered the room, striding forward to catch a definitely startled Arthur in a hug.

“I am... pleased that your mission was a success,” the king said, regaining his royal bearing and including Merlin in the compliment with a curt nod.

“Thank you, Sire,” Arthur said, offering a bow as he did so.

Merlin echoed him, and they all sat back down once the king was settled. “It is fortunate that we were the ones sent,” Merlin started. “We were able to speak to the dragon and ascertain the truth of what was occurring.”

“Morgause and Mordred,” Gaius mused, shaking his head, “that is a Pair we had not foreseen.”

“The question is, how can they be stopped?” Uther put in, looking at the older men as he spoke, though it was Arthur who answered.

“Merlin has the feel of his magic; that will help us identify their workings in the future.” All of them believed, like Merlin and Arthur, that it was simply too coincidental for yet another Flare to have worked magic on the former mayor while Mordred misled the dragon Griaule into attacking the village. The only reasonable conclusion was that the magic Merlin had felt on Tanner was Mordred’s.

“They will be a strong Pair,” Lancelot frowned. “Morgause is skilled.”

“But not as skilled as Arthur,” Merlin said simply. “Nor is Mordred my equal. They can ambush us by doing things we would never contemplate, but eventually it will come to a battle, and we _will_ win it.”

“We need to work on trying to anticipate them, to figure out their goal,” Arthur murmured.

Merlin turned to Gaius and Lancelot. “Can you help us with that? You trained them, after all.” Though he wasn’t entirely certain that Lancelot had, in fact, trained Morgause. She might have already left the Academy before he took over as Proctor.

“All Pairs should be given that information,” Uther interrupted.

“Of course,” Gaius agreed immediately. “However, Merlin is correct that eventually he and Arthur will have to be the ones to face them. It can be no other way, especially in light of this prophecy mentioned by Griaule—which Balinor and I are already trying to find out more about.”

“I trained with Morgause,” Lancelot murmured, sounding deep in thought, “I do know her thinking, though how that has changed over the past twenty years I cannot say.”

Merlin nodded. “I can only assume she would not have been likely to lie to a dragon to make it attack a dragonlord and a Pair while she was at the Academy.”

Ambrosius snorted at the comment, and Uther frowned at the old Sword before looking at the others. “They need to be stopped; I will not have a rogue Pair running around Albion creating havoc.”

“We will make it our utmost priority to find them, Sire,” Gaius assured him.

“It reflects poorly on all of us to have them causing such trouble,” Merlin added. “But now that we are aware of them, it would be much harder for them to lurk unseen in the shadows.”

“And when we find them, we will deal with them,” Arthur commented.

“Exactly,” Gaius nodded. “And now perhaps we should discuss the dragon?”

Hours later the discussion ended, and the assembled men rose to their feet as the king stood to take his leave. “I trust your judgment in these matters; keep me informed of what you uncover,” Uther stated, starting for the door, only to turn back. “And Arthur, you will find quarters have been prepared for you and your pair-mate; I expect you both to be settled in them within the week.”

Arthur winced, knowing what Merlin’s reaction to this would be. “Yes, Father,” he said, closing his hand over Merlin’s to silence the outburst he knew was ready to erupt, at least for the moment.

Merlin held his tongue until the king had departed, then turned on the Sword, scowling. “Quarters in the palace? Within the _week_?!” His voice rose to a near shriek on the last word, and Gaius, Ambrosius and Lancelot made haste to escape, leaving Arthur to deal with his irate pair-mate.

Arthur sighed and rubbed at his forehead. “I am the crown prince, Merlin; I have duties other than those we share.”

“I’m not an idiot, Arthur; I know that. And I know that we have to move to the palace eventually, but _this week_?! We’ve barely had a chance to live in the Pairs’ quarters, and we have to give that up already?”

“We don’t have to give up our quarters,” Arthur said evenly, though he was taking deep breaths as he spoke. “We can retain them and have residence in the palace as well.”

Merlin regarded him unhappily. “And once we’re ensconced here in the palace, how often will we use our Pair quarters?”

“I cannot say, but I will endeavor to arrange things so that we may spend as much time there as possible,” Arthur said, his tone growing stiff.

Merlin slumped in his seat. “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to make this more difficult for you,” he said, staring down at his hands. “I simply thought that I would have more time to accustom myself to the idea before having to face this in reality.”

Arthur sighed and crouched down beside his pair-mate, reaching up to cup his face with one callused palm. “And I’m sorry, I know this is quite a bit more baggage than a normal partner would have brought into the Pairing.”

Managing a faint smile, Merlin tilted his head slightly into Arthur’s head. “You’re worth it. Just... bear with me sometimes when I need a bit of time to adjust.”

“I’ll do my best,” Arthur promised.

“And I’ll try not to run mad on you too often.”

Arthur crooked a smile at that. “It’s a good thing that you’re adorable when you look hunted.”

“Adorable?!” Merlin exclaimed, sounding revolted. “I’m never!”

“You’re always.”

“I believe I’m going to be ill.”

Arthur grinned slightly at that. “I’m sure you’d be adorable doing it as well.”

Merlin eyed him. “I think I could hate you.”

“No, you love me; you can’t hate me.”

“The two are _not_ mutually exclusive,” Merlin informed him, trying not to smile.

“But you love me, and that is what matters,” Arthur chuckled.

“Smug prat.”

“And is there something wrong with that?”

“There should be, but I seem inordinately fond of it.”

“That’s because you have good taste,” Arthur assured him. “Now come along, we can go collapse in our quarters and not think about it all.”

Merlin bit back a sigh at the mention of the quarters that had precipitated their discussion and simply got to his feet with a somewhat fixed smile. “Yes, that sounds good,” he agreed.

Arthur caught his change of expression and sighed. “If it helps, we will be together.”

“It helps a lot,” Merlin admitted, reaching for Arthur’s hand. “Just don’t try to carry me over the threshold.”

“Spoilsport,” Arthur grumbled, sliding his arm around Merlin’s waist instead and hugging him before they started for the door.

“This... is rather pleasant,” Merlin said a little later, once they’d finally made their way to their quarters, with far too many people for his liking having bowed to them along the way.

“What is?” Arthur asked, glancing over at him.

“Our rooms.” Merlin looked around, relieved that the decor wasn’t unrelieved red, since he’d noticed Arthur’s fondness for the color.

“We can change the decor if you want,” Arthur offered, knowing that Merlin could do that with a thought. “Whatever makes you feel more comfortable.”

“No, this is fine,” Merlin demurred. “I like it, and what makes me comfortable is you, Pair-mate.”

Arthur breathed a sigh of relief at that and pulled Merlin closer to him. “I do love you, you madman,” he whispered before brushing his lips against Merlin’s.

“Which turns out to be quite a good thing since I love you too,” Merlin replied, looping his arms around Arthur’s waist and leaning into him, content to remain like that for the moment.

“Shall we take a look around?” Arthur murmured after a time.

Merlin eyed him oddly. “Haven’t you ever seen your own rooms before?”

“These aren’t my rooms,” Arthur explained. “These are our rooms. I imagine that the things I keep here are somewhere in the suite, but no, I haven’t seen this particular set of rooms before.”

Somehow that made Merlin feel a little better about the whole situation, knowing that he wasn’t simply being slotted into Arthur’s previous life but that space was being made for them as a Pair. “Let’s hope I don’t have to do as much redecorating here,” he said wryly, straightening away from Arthur to turn and look around with increased interest.

Arthur chuckled as he watched Merlin begin to wander around the suite of rooms, following after him so as better to see his reactions. “I believe that we’ll be able to choose furnishings of our own.”

“Ah, so you don’t actually have such Spartan tastes,” Merlin said. “Considering the lack of much beyond the necessities here, I’d begun to wonder if there was a side of you I hadn’t seen yet.”

“Considering that I have little desire for gilt wall coverings and chairs that look as if they’ll collapse the moment we sit in them, not hardly.”

Merlin snickered at the mental image of Arthur surrounded by such frippery and couldn’t resist offering, “I could make that for you if you like.”

“Then you would find yourself sleeping alone,” Arthur snorted, unable to keep from shuddering at the thought.

Merlin’s eyebrows rose. “The decor is more important to you than sharing a bed with me?” Somehow he didn’t seem worried about his potential abandonment.

“You torment me, I’ll torment you.”

“By threatening chastity?!”

“Are you suggesting that we can only have sexual relations while in our bed?” Arthur asked, sounding amused. “I know of a certain hayloft in the stables...”

“And yet you don’t want to sleep with me. I’m not sure you deserve me,” Merlin informed his Sword with a smirk.

“Your tree says otherwise,” the prince replied, undoing his cuff and tapping his bare wrist to emphasize the point.

“My tree is a traitor,” Merlin retorted before laughing and tugging Arthur to him for a quick kiss. “But it’s a smart one.”

“Your tree has good taste, just as I do,” Arthur chuckled, his arm snaking around Merlin’s waist to hold him in for another, deeper kiss. Merlin groaned his approval and pressed closer, his hands sliding down to cup Arthur’s ass.

“Mmm, and you taste good as well. Shall we explore and see what in the way of bedchambers these rooms have to offer?”

“Another excellent idea, Pair-mate,” Merlin said in a throaty purr, rocking against Arthur and hooking a leg around his hips. Arthur chuckled in response and slid his arms under Merlin’s thighs to lift him before beginning to walk toward the doors off to the left side of the sitting room.

“Mmm, I love having a big, muscular Sword,” Merlin murmured against Arthur’s throat, first licking and then nibbling on the tanned flesh.

“Keep that up and you and your big, muscular Sword might just both end up on the floor,” Arthur groaned, tightening his hands on Merlin’s thighs, his thumbs rubbing circles over the taut fabric beneath them.

“I don’t see a problem with that.” Merlin rocked against Arthur, rubbing their cocks together through the layers of fabric while careful not to overbalance them.

“Perhaps your big, muscular Sword doesn’t want to bruise you.” Arthur’s step faltered as Merlin ground against him, and he drew in a hissing breath.

Merlin groaned. “I’m going to be hearing that for months, aren’t I?” Unless he could distract his Sword, and he was always happy to do that.

“More than likely.”

“If I didn’t love you, I’d really hate you,” Merlin grumbled.

“But you love me so the point is moot.” Arthur nudged the door open with his boot and walked them into the master bedroom, crossing over burnished wood to expertly crafted carpets from the Orient.

“You really are a smug prat,” Merlin informed him even as his eyes flared bright gold and their garments vanished.

“I have you for a pair-mate; how could I be anything else?” The rub of their flesh together caused Arthur’s voice to deepen, and he raised his head to look around the room, automatically assessing the space even as he spotted the huge canopy bed set against the wall to the right opposite wide, curtained windows.

Merlin gave him a slow, sensual smile for that response and fisted his hands in Arthur’s thick blond hair, pulling him into a deep, hungry kiss. Arthur groaned into his mouth, pulling their bodies even closer together as he slowly walked toward the bed, managing to ease them both down onto the brocade spread without dropping Merlin or crushing him.

The moment Merlin felt the crisp fabric beneath his back, he flipped them over and grinned wickedly down at the startled prince. “I want you,” he rasped, sliding a hand under Arthur to lightly finger his opening.

“You just realized that I’ve stopped squirming every time I sit,” Arthur said breathlessly, his legs falling open and giving Merlin more access.

Merlin chuckled throatily. “It’s hot seeing it,” he admitted, watching Arthur as he stroked a little more firmly.

Arthur groaned, the sound a mixture of desire and embarrassment.

“And even better that no one else knows,” Merlin rasped, lowering his head to bite at Arthur’s throat. He nudged Arthur’s legs a little farther apart and knelt between them, watching himself finger Arthur, still only teasing the tightly clenched ring.

“I hope,” Arthur rasped, his hips twitching at the light touch, jerking from side to side in an attempt at more. His hands fisted in the fabric beneath them, but he kept himself from reaching for Merlin, wanting to see what Merlin would do next.

Merlin’s lips curved in another smile as he murmured a spell that left Arthur slick, and the next pass of his finger had it pressing inside his pair-mate. Arthur’s groan was low and deep, and it rumbled through his body as he arched his back, his eyes bright and hot as he watched Merlin down the length of his body.

“So hot,” Merlin murmured, his eyes brightening as he watched Arthur. “And all mine,” he added possessively, pulling his finger back only to press it back into Arthur twined with a second.

“Even if you decorated all the room in gilt,” Arthur moaned, the muscular ring that circled Merlin’s fingers clenching down around them. Merlin groaned, obviously imagining Arthur tightening around his cock.

“Rather have you,” Merlin said before dragging his tongue over an already rigid nipple, then flicking it several times, pushing it back and forth.

“Good thing as you have me.” One hand lifted from the spread so that Arthur could tangle his fingers into Merlin’s dark, messy hair.

“Going to have you,” Merlin rasped, staring down into the lust-darkened blue eyes of his pair-mate. “Do you need more?” he asked, twisting his fingers and rubbing across the sensitive spot deep inside him.

Pleasure robbed Arthur of the power of speech for a long, breathless moment, and he shook his head. “Just you,” he panted, releasing Merlin’s hair so that he could pull his knees up and back to his chest.

Merlin shuddered, the sight drawing a sound of pure sex from him. “Dear Goddess,” he breathed, staring, and then he fell on Arthur like a starving man, taking his mouth in a voracious kiss while pushing into him.

Arthur’s groan filled his mouth as he bucked upward, causing Merlin to completely slide into him and the sound to be repeated as their bodies slapped together. “Fuck me,” he gasped, the tone almost an order.

“Whatever you command, my prince,” Merlin rasped, drawing back slowly so he could slam into Arthur again and again, his eyes blazing.

“So good, so gorgeous.” As he spoke, Arthur released one leg to run his hand up Merlin’s flank, the warm, pale skin pulling beneath the calluses on his palm.

“You’re the gorgeous one,” Merlin panted, bracing his hands on either side of Arthur’s head as he took him hard and fast.

“Don’t argue with your pair-mate.” Arthur’s eyes rolled back in his head, and his hand slipped, falling to his own groin so that he could palm his heavy erection in time with Merlin’s thrusts.

“Yes,” Merlin gasped, staring down at Arthur’s hand. “Wanna see you come.”

Arthur’s response was a rough groan as he clenched down around the shaft that was filling him, at the same time stroking himself, all the while never looking away from Merlin’s golden gaze. “Yes,” he breathed, losing himself in the rhythmic sounds of their bodies coming together and the exquisite sensations that raced through him.

Merlin shuddered, knowing that he was close, the sight, scent, sound and feel of Arthur driving him to the edge. “Need you to come now,” he groaned. His eyes flared brighter and ghostly hands danced over Arthur’s body, finding every spot that increased his pleasure.

As if those words were all he needed, Arthur cried out and came, the physical evidence of his pleasure spilling over his hand and down to his groin.

Merlin watched his pair-mate come, his eyes bright enough to light the room, and then he drove into Arthur even harder, his hips jerking until he cried out with his own climax, all the furniture in the room shifting as he did.

Arthur caught Merlin as he collapsed against him, ignoring the pull of his own muscles as he cradled the lighter man, his slowly evening breath blowing against Merlin’s hair before he brushed a kiss against the long strands. “Did you just make the palace move?” he chuckled quietly.

“Lord and Lady, I hope not!” Merlin groaned.

“Well, you certainly made it move for me.”

“I wanted to for you. I’d really rather not have everyone else in Camelot knowing what we’re doing though.”

“Depending how I’m walking when we leave, they may no matter what,” Arthur groaned.

Merlin tried very hard to hold back his smug satisfaction, but it obviously didn’t work as Arthur shook his head and gave a wry smile. “Idiot. Why do I love you again?”

“Your dragon likes my tree.”

“He’s easily swayed.”

“And just as smart as my tree.”

“And just as happy as I am.”

“That makes all four of us then,” Merlin replied, pressing a kiss to Arthur’s chest, the prince wincing slightly as he shifted his legs to allow them to rest on Merlin’s.

“Feeling a bit better about our rooms here?” he murmured, stroking a hand over Merlin’s back, feeling the damp skin cooling beneath his fingers.

“You know that I’ll be fine with any rooms that you’re sharing with me,” Merlin muttered. “I just don’t react well to sudden changes.”

“I promise to tell you before I get a severe haircut,” Arthur promised, kissing the side of Merlin’s head.

“Don’t you dare!” Merlin jerked up to glare down at the Sword, causing him to grin.

“No?”

“No!” Merlin stroked the blond strands possessively.

“I suppose I had better hope I never lose it, or you’ll throw me over for someone else.”

“I’ll have to keep an eye out for attractive blonds just in case.”

“Male or female?”

“I’ve discovered a fondness for the male of the species.”

“Will you at least let me help you vet the candidates before you replace me with a younger model?” Arthur asked seriously.

“Why do I think that your idea of vetting will involve impaling them on your sword?” Merlin asked dryly.

“Impaling? That’s far too easy a time for them; I was thinking drawing and quartering myself,” Arthur replied thoughtfully.

“I’m getting the impression that I’d be better off sticking with the original model—or at least the population of Camelot would be.”

“Besides, you really don’t want to know what my dragon would do to anyone else that he found in your bed,” was added sunnily.

“That sounds rather dire,” Merlin decided. “I suppose I’ll just have to keep you.”

“I’m sure I can think of something to make up for any impending loss of hair,” Arthur chuckled.

“I’m sure there are things you won’t lose that will keep me distracted,” Merlin agreed.

“Just so long as you don’t bespell an armored codpiece on me to protect them.”

Imagining that, Merlin burst into laughter. “You’d certainly develop an interesting reputation.”

Arthur groaned. “That’s all I would need.”

“Then again, it might arouse too much interest, and I’d have to fight to keep you.”

“You saying that I’m not interesting without a chainmail codpiece?” Arthur queried.

Merlin snorted. “You know very well that’s far from the truth, my arrogant prat of a prince. However, we don’t need to be drawing any additional attention from people that I would then have to turn into toads for coveting what’s mine.”

“Well, it’s possible that it would be a blessing for some of them to be turned into toads...” Arthur mused as he ran his hands down Merlin’s back, settling them on the firm globes of his ass.

“Why do I think the toads might come to outnumber the humans in this kingdom if it were left to you?” Merlin asked with a chuckle that turned to a moan.

“We’ll see what you think when you have to deal with the court.”

“You are not painting me a happy picture, Pair-mate,” Merlin grumbled even as he squirmed lazily on top of Arthur, feeling the cooling semen spread over more of their skin but not minding in the least.

“You’ll do fine; I have faith in you,” Arthur smiled.

“You just want to see what happens once one of them makes me lose my temper,” Merlin retorted.

“That could be amusing.”

“You are a twisted man,” Merlin informed him.

“I’m of the royal family; it’s expected.” Arthur slapped Merlin on the ass and grinned up at him. “Now we should go collect what we want moved.”

“But I’m comfortable,” Merlin grumbled.

“You can use me for a pillow this evening,” Arthur promised, kissing Merlin’s temple. “Besides, if we don’t move soon, I’m not going to be able to walk.”

“Oh, fine, be logical,” Merlin sighed, slowly withdrawing from Arthur and sitting up to stretch, Arthur staying where he was so that he could watch the leaner man move.

“Mmm, you make a very pretty sight, Pair-mate,” he purred, making Merlin grin down at him.

“Well, you’ll have to keep your admiration to words for now, Prince Arthur, or we’ll never get out of this bed.” He got to his feet and murmured a spell that cleaned both them and the bedding.

“Even as young as we are, I think that’s the only admiration you’d get in any case, Flare Merlin,” Arthur laughed as he stood. “And do you mind bringing my clothes back?”

“Do I have to?” Merlin asked, eyeing Arthur with appreciation.

“Would you rather we walk the corridors of the palace as we are?”

Merlin growled at the thought of anyone else seeing Arthur as he was, and in an instant the Sword found himself fully clothed, every button fastened, and every inch of skin that could be covered was.

“Goddess, Merlin,” Arthur choked, pulling at his now constricting cravat and trying to loosen it. “I don’t believe I need to be swaddled!”

“I was simply returning your garments as requested,” Merlin replied serenely.

“You could have set them on the bed.”

“I was saving you time.”

“And your own clothes?”

Another murmured spell and Merlin was clothed in a Flare’s everyday garments, a ruby stickpin in his cravat indicating his Paired status.

Arthur nodded in approval even as he checked to assure himself that his weapons had been returned to their correct places and that he could reach them easily. “So, shall we?” he asked, offering Merlin his arm along with a cheeky grin.

Merlin chuckled, and he tucked his hand into Arthur’s arm, making sure not to hinder access to any of his pair-mate’s weapons. “You’re just looking forward to keeping me in your lair.”

“My lair?” Arthur sputtered as they left their suite. “You make me sound like the villain in a cheap melodrama!”

“You’d never be cheap,” Merlin assured him.

“I’m not sure if that makes me feel any better.” Arthur nodded absently as several courtiers stepped out of their way and bowed as they passed them.

Merlin glanced back uneasily. “Do they always do that?”

“What?” Arthur asked, frowning in confusion.

“People, do they always push themselves into walls to allow you to pass? I’m quite sure you’re capable of walking down a corridor without everyone hastening to give you a clear path.”

“Perhaps they believe that I’ll trip over their feet, fall and leave the country without an heir,” Arthur chuckled.

“And perhaps we can try to convince them that it’s unnecessary?” Merlin suggested hopefully. “It’s disconcerting.”

“They don’t all do it,” Arthur offered, looking back over his shoulder, “just the ones trying to curry favor.”

“Ah,” Merlin said, understanding dawning. “So those were some of the potential toads?”

“It would be amusing to see them trying to hop out of the way...”

Merlin snickered before managing to ask gravely, “But are their heirs any better?”

“From what I remember, yes, but you’ll get a chance to form your own opinions of them over time,” Arthur promised.

“When we’re at court _between missions_ ,” Merlin stressed, not about to allow them to be held in Camelot all the time, not that it was likely now that their gifts had been proven.

“Which is the case at the moment.” Arthur stopped Merlin’s protest with a quick kiss. “Now come along, Pair-mate; we need to pack and be back before the evening meal.”

Merlin regarded him suspiciously although he did quicken his pace somewhat. “And why exactly must we be back for dinner? They do serve food at the Pairs Hall.”

“Because if we are in residence, we should take our meals with my father,” Arthur answered, realizing that perhaps they should have spoken of what would happen once they finished their training before now.

“Always?” Merlin asked, sounding dismayed, and his expression matched his tone. He’d waited for years to become one of a mated Pair and sit in the dining hall with _his_ Sword, and now he was discovering that he was never going to get the opportunity. To say he was disappointed was something of an understatement.

“Not always, but it is our first night, and I have been away, and...” Arthur sighed, seeing as well as feeling Merlin’s disappointment.

Merlin bit back a sigh of his own and nodded. He’d known that being paired to the heir would require some compromises on his part, but he was going to have to work at masking his reactions when he encountered them. He didn’t want to make things more difficult for Arthur. Still... “Perhaps we could try to dine at the Hall once or twice a month?” he suggested wistfully.

“We can work out a schedule so that we can be there as much as possible,” Arthur promised.

“That’s fine then,” Merlin said, smiling to reassure his pair-mate. “But that means no getting distracted by each other while we’re packing, or we’ll never make it back in time.”

“That goes for speaking with Gwen and Morgana as well, though I imagine that they will be here tonight.”

“Which will provide us with entertainment,” Merlin chuckled. “Morgana truly has no patience with the courtiers who expect her to behave ‘like a lady.’ It’s always amusing seeing how she’ll decide to put them in their places.”

“Have you ever seen her at a court function?” Arthur asked in return.

“Only that ball for the ambassador that we attended together, and I was somewhat distracted by realizing I was falling in love with my Sword.”

“Well, as one who has seen her at functions where he wasn’t distracted by falling in love with his Flare, believe me when I say that she can behave—and if she doesn’t, Gwen boxes her ears.”

Merlin laughed softly, easily able to imagine the soft-spoken Sword doing exactly that. There were many who thought that Morgana was the dominant one of the Pair, but those who knew them knew better. Guinevere chose her battles, but when she was determined on a course of action, nothing and no one could sway her.

They entered the carriage that had been brought up to the front of the palace the moment the staff realized the direction the Pair was heading, and Arthur directed the driver to take them to the Hall.

As the carriage made its way across Camelot, Merlin started to complain about the heat before realizing why he suddenly felt so warm. He reached into his pocket and withdrew his tablet, gulping when he saw that he had received a message from his parents.

“What is it?” Arthur asked, looking concerned.

Merlin read the message slowly and then did so a second time in case he had perhaps misunderstood. But the words stubbornly refused to change, and he had to say, “My parents are coming to meet you.”

Arthur smiled at that, looking exceedingly pleased. “Wonderful! I’m looking forward to finally getting to speak to them in person.”

A heartfelt groan filled the carriage. “They’re going to want to meet your father too!”

“I’m sure we can arrange that,” Arthur assured him before frowning. “You don’t seem happy about any of this.”

“As I’ve said before, my parents aren’t impressed by a crown,” Merlin reminded him. “And they have decided views on parenting.”

Arthur sighed.

“Maybe it won’t be so bad,” Merlin said, sounding less than positive.

“This from the same person who was filling the carriage with the sounds of his groans not two minutes ago?”

“They’re going to like you,” Merlin offered.

“According to the notes from your mother that I get, they already _love_ me.”

“If your head gets any bigger, you’re not going to be able to fit through doorways.”

“I’m good for you,” Arthur continued with a small smile.

“Unfortunately true,” Merlin admitted before leaning across the small gap between them and kissing him.

“And vice versa,” Arthur murmured against his lips.

“That works out very conveniently for both of us.”

“It’s good that something does.”

“I think most things have been working out very well since the night we paired.”

“Mmm, true,” Arthur murmured.

Merlin smiled as he leaned back in his seat. “Let’s hope the trend continues when Mum and Dad arrive, which, according to their message, will be in two days.”

“We’ll have to arrange rooms for them, as well as get ours furnished,” Arthur mused. “It’s going to be a busy few days.”

~*~

Arthur’s remark proved to be an understatement, and by the time Balinor and Hunith arrived, all Merlin wanted to do was crawl into bed with Arthur and sleep for at least a full day. Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option.

“Merlin!” Hunith’s cry preceded her hug by only a split second, and Merlin’s smile threatened to split his face as he hugged her back.

“It’s good to see you, son,” Balinor smiled, embracing Merlin once Hunith had let him go. “You’ve grown again, haven’t you?”

“Just a bit,” Merlin agreed, smiling at his father. “I think I’m done now though. Dad, Mum, I want you to meet Arthur.” He half turned, reaching for Arthur’s hand to draw him forward, the prince smiling as he joined them.

“Dragonlord Balinor, Mistress Emrys, it is an honor and a pleasure to meet you,” he said formally.

“Mistress Emrys?” Hunith repeated. “Oh, I think not, Arthur Anlawd Pendragon. Now greet me properly,” she ordered as she pulled the prince into a hug.

Arthur’s eyes widened slightly at the strength of her grip, and seeing his expression, Balinor took pity on the young man. “Hunith, he needs to breathe,” he admonished laughingly.

“Hugs are much more important than breathing,” Hunith informed her husband, but she did release Arthur, only to take him by the shoulders and regard him searchingly for long moments before nodding sharply.

“Yes, you’ll do very well for my Merlin.”

“Mum!” Merlin groaned.

“I’m glad you believe so, ma’am,” Arthur said, meeting her gaze squarely. “I love him.”

Hunith smiled then. “Yes, you do.” She hugged him again. “Your pairing is everything I ever hoped for, for him.”

Merlin was blushing, but he was smiling too, and it was obvious that he was happy. “It’s all thanks to his dragon.”

“Only fitting for a dragonlord,” Balinor informed him laughingly.

“It was actually his tree,” Arthur informed Merlin’s parents with quick grin.

“Threw itself at your dragon, did it?” Hunith asked before finally letting Arthur go.

Merlin smirked at Arthur. “Yes, Arthur, do explain how that happened.”

The prince colored beneath his tan and cleared his throat. “It was love at first sight,” he managed to get out, “even if they didn’t know it at the time.”

“So you simply followed the lead of your marks?” Hunith inquired, her eyebrows rising while, behind her, Balinor fought the urge to laugh.

Arthur’s flush deepened, and he glanced back at Merlin for help. “They seemed to know better than we did,” he finally managed to get out.

“But we figured it out,” Merlin added, sliding his arm around Arthur’s waist as he moved to his side.

“And we’re pleased for the both of you that you did,” Balinor assured them.

“Yes, we are.” The words were spoken by the king, who had just joined them though he was trailed by his guards.

“Father,” Arthur straightened as the others bowed. “May I present Merlin’s parents, Dragonlord Balinor and Mistress Hunith Emrys.”

“It is good to see you again, Balinor,” Uther greeted, clasping arms with the dragonlord before greeting his wife. “And a pleasure to finally meet you, Mistress Emrys.”

“Hunith please, Sire,” she replied with a curtsy. “I hope Merlin hasn’t been too much of a headache,” she added with a wicked smile familiar to anyone who had ever encountered her son in a mischievous mood.

The king glanced over at Merlin and gave a thin smile. “I am not sure that he believes I won’t bite his head off yet,” he allowed, gaining a nervous smile in response as Merlin moved even closer to Arthur, pressing against him.

“He’ll grow accustomed to it,” Balinor assured the king. “Then you’ll wish he was still nervous.”

“Dad!” Merlin exclaimed in protest while Arthur frowned at his own father as he rubbed Merlin’s back.

“It’s true, son,” Hunith chuckled.

“He has proven that he has backbone,” Uther allowed. “Of course I wouldn’t imagine anything less of Arthur’s pair-mate.”

Merlin eyed the king warily a moment longer before finally smiling. “Arthur would make a doormat of anything else.”

“What do you mean by that?” the prince questioned, causing his father to chuckle.

“He knows you well already, Arthur.”

“I mean you can be an arrogant prat, Arthur,” Merlin informed his pair-mate cheerfully, making all three of their parents laugh.

“I could almost feel sorry for you, Arthur,” Balinor said, “except that I know Merlin is just like his mother, and I’ve always found Hunith more than worth the occasional public embarrassment.”

“Oh, I’ve never doubted that for a moment,” Arthur said, smiling at Merlin, who returned the smile, while Hunith regarded her husband narrowly.

“Perhaps we should move out of the entry?” Uther suggested, watching both couples with amusement.

“That might be best for all of us,” Balinor chuckled.

“Would you care to see your quarters and freshen up?” Arthur asked.

“Lady bless you, Arthur,” Hunith said in clear agreement with that plan.

Uther took his leave of them, giving Merlin and Arthur some private time with Merlin’s parents, though the young men did not remain long after showing Hunith and Balinor to their quarters, knowing the older couple had to be weary from their journey.

“I never realize how much I miss them until I see them again,” Merlin murmured to Arthur as they returned to their own quarters.

“They love you very much,” Arthur responded, pulling Merlin into a hug and kissing his jaw.

“And I them, but I’m no longer a child to live with my parents, much as I might have wished otherwise at times. Now though, I’m happy where I am, but I still wish I could see them more often.”

“Do you think they would leave Ealdor if your father was offered a position here?” Arthur suggested carefully.

After considering it for a time, Merlin shrugged and nodded at the same time. “They might, I don’t know. Mum loves Ealdor, but I know she’d like to see me more often too, and they both want to get to know you. Plus, I’m fairly certain Mum expects to have final approval on whomever you decide to marry eventually.”

Arthur groaned at that thought. “You must be joking me.”

Merlin just looked at him, eyebrows raised.

“Goddess, you aren’t.”

Merlin shook his head slowly but very definitely.

“And when she realizes that your talent really shouldn’t go to the grave with us?”

“You think she hasn’t already?” Merlin scoffed gently. “I’m quite certain my mum has every intention of vetting and approving both of our future wives. I’m almost surprised she didn’t arrive with two young women in tow, but she’s probably planning to scour the Academy first.”

Arthur groaned at that. “We’ll have to remind her that these wives will have to be very understanding in what they think a husband’s duties should be.”

“Do you honestly think my mother is unaware of the fact that we’re sharing a bed?” Merlin snorted.

“No, I’m aware that she’s aware of the fact,” Arthur muttered, not really wanting to think of that. “I just want our future wives to be fine with that as well.”

“Shows what you know. My mum would think that any woman who didn’t realize and accept that wasn’t worthy of us.”

“Then perhaps we should leave it in your mother’s hands, save us the trouble.”

Merlin chuckled. “Then we’d get yelled at for ignoring something so important to our lives.”

“This is sounding more and more like a situation we can’t win,” Arthur grumbled.

“Welcome to having a mother.”

“I only hope she runs her suggestions past my father before announcing them.”

Merlin shuddered at the thought of a confrontation between the king and his mother. “Remind me to strengthen the structure of the castle. Perhaps the entire city,” he mused.

“And perhaps we could arrange to be on assignment somewhere.”

“Would another country be far enough?” Merlin wondered.

“We could go on a diplomatic mission to the Norse countries,” Arthur suggested.

“We might come back to find ourselves wed by proxy,” Merlin informed him.

“I would hope that Camelot is somewhat more modern than that.”

“What does modern have to do with determined parents?”

“Hopefully, everything, or at least enough to keep us from being give-away grooms.”

“I’m sure Mum would prefer to have our agreement on the brides,” Merlin said soothingly. “I hope,” he muttered.

“If we keep worrying about it, we’re going to get grey hair.”

“Good point. And we have much better things to do with our time,” Merlin said, pulling Arthur over to the sofa and curling up against him once his Sword was seated.

“And I for one certainly don’t want to be thinking of our parents while we’re doing them,” Arthur chuckled, wrapping one arm around Merlin’s shoulders and pressing a kiss against his temple.

“I promise you won’t be thinking of anything at all,” Merlin assured him, twisting so that he straddled Arthur’s lap, his arms looped around Arthur’s neck.

“Oh really?” Arthur asked, his eyebrows rising even as a grin curved his lips.

“You doubt me?” Merlin shook his head in mock sorrow, his blue eyes sparkling with laughter and love. “I thought better of you, Sword.”

“Ooh, I don’t doubt you,” Arthur murmured, his hands going to Merlin’s hips before he lunged suddenly, flattening Merlin out on the sofa beneath him. “I’m just very sure of myself.”

“Something I find that I like about you,” Merlin admitted, wrapping both arms and legs around his pair-mate while Arthur’s hands worked their way down his sides and under his coat so that he could stroke Merlin’s body without the thick folds of material in his way.

“I’m very glad to hear that,” he murmured as he nibbled at the curve of Merlin’s ear.

“I shouldn’t think it would be a surprise to you,” Merlin said, his head falling back to give Arthur better access while he began undressing the Sword.

“Not at all,” Arthur breathed into Merlin’s ear, “but I still like hearing it.”

“Shocking,” Merlin half moaned, half chuckled. “You know I love you, even at your prattish worst.”

“Which is why I can feel free to be a prat around you,” Arthur murmured, trailing kisses down Merlin’s throat.

“I’m doomed,” Merlin groaned.

“Ahh, but at least you’ll go happy.”

“I’m an idiot, but that makes us perfect for each other.” Merlin arched up under him, rubbing against Arthur.

“Exactly,” Arthur assured him before going about proving just how perfect they were for each other.


	8. Chapter 8

“Gaius has summoned us,” Merlin informed his pair-mate as Arthur entered their chambers at the castle, where Merlin had been for some little while, having retreated there while Arthur and Gwen were practicing. Neither Flare had had any desire to become involved, and they had informed their Swords that they would expect to see them no later than noon.

“I told him you were practicing, so he’s not expecting us till mid afternoon,” he added, taking in the sight of his pair-mate.

“Any idea why?” Arthur asked as he unbelted his sword, set it on the stand and pulled off his leather jacket, revealing a sweat-soaked shirt beneath it.

“He didn’t really say, but considering that everyone has been searching for any leads to finding Morgause and Mordred, I’m hoping that they’ve found something and are going to send us after them. I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of lazing about the palace, not doing what I trained for.”

Arthur pressed his lips together at that and took a deep breath. “You could sit in on meetings with me,” he offered carefully, already knowing what the answer to that would be.

Merlin rolled his eyes. “Arthur, I already do that occasionally. And yes, someday, hopefully in the far distant future, when you’re king, I’ll attend all of them as both your pair-mate and your advisor, but for now, I add nothing to the meetings. And not to put too sharp a point on it, it’s a poor use of your skills as well. You know perfectly well that we’re meant to be in the field, and hopefully that’s why Gaius has sent for us.”

“Yes, Merlin,” Arthur answered, deciding that there was nothing else he could say at that point. “Let me get cleaned up, then we can feed you, and by the time your stomach is full, it will be time to meet with Gaius.”

“Oh right, and you’re not hungry after a morning bashing away at Gwen with your sword,” Merlin scoffed.

“It wasn’t just Gwen,” Arthur protested as he dragged his shirt over his head. “Jerome, Gawain and Pellinore showed up; we had a regular melee.” His grin as he spoke was positively boyish.

Merlin groaned. “How can supposedly intelligent people think that bashing each other with weapons is fun?”

“Because it is fun,” Arthur laughed, tossing his shirt in Merlin’s direction. “It was a grand workout though Pellinore’s ribs might not agree.”

“Clearly a person has to be mad to become a Sword,” Merlin decided. A glance sent Arthur’s sweaty shirt to the laundry basket, and he wondered what exactly Arthur’s rooms had looked like before they paired.

“I heard that!” Arthur called from the bath, the sound of running water cutting through his words.

“You were meant to!”

Loud, discordant singing greeted that remark.

“It would serve you right if I turned the water cold!” Merlin yelled, but he was grinning.

The singing continued, finally stopping when the water was turned off, and Arthur padded out into the main room, wearing only a towel. “So, have you rung for food, or would you rather we go to the salon?”

“I thought we could eat at the Hall,” Merlin suggested. “Since we’re going there to meet Gaius anyway.”

“That sounds good to me,” Arthur nodded, letting the towel drop as he walked toward the wardrobe that held their clothes.

“Or we could skip eating and stay here a while longer,” Merlin murmured, his eyes tracing the lines of Arthur’s nude form.

“Oh no,” Arthur laughed, “I’m not sitting through a meeting with your stomach growling.”

Merlin chuckled, but he couldn’t deny it, and he _was_ hungry. “Oh fine, then stop tempting me and get dressed.”

“So it’s my fault that you have no self-control?” Arthur asked as he glanced into his wardrobe, smiling to himself and pulling on a set of worn leathers that fit him like a glove.

“You are a cruel man, Arthur Pendragon,” Merlin groaned, squirming in his seat.

“I learned it from you, Merlin Emrys.”

“Good point,” Merlin laughed. “You might want to let someone know not to expect us back tonight. I have every intention of dragging you off to our quarters at the Hall once Gaius and Lancelot are done with us.”

“I’ll make a point to do that,” Arthur said mildly, pulling out a message tablet and sending a note to the steward. After sliding the tablet back into his inner jacket pocket, he armed himself, turning each move into a graceful tease as he knew Merlin was watching him.

“Keep it up and we’ll be late for our meeting,” Merlin warned him.

“Food, then meeting, then do your worst, Pair-mate.”

“My best.”

Arthur smiled. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

~*~

 “My boys, it seems far too long since I’ve seen you,” Gaius greeted, standing to hug each of them when they entered the quarters he shared with Ambrosius.

“It’s good to see you as well, Gaius,” Merlin replied. “But it’s only been a few days. I haven’t even begun begging Arthur to abdicate his responsibilities and run away with me to live in a hut in the woods,” he chuckled.

“He’s enjoying the cook too much to have started on it yet,” Arthur put in.

Merlin stuck his tongue out at his pair-mate, and Gaius chuckled.

“I don’t remember ever being like these two,” he observed to Ambrosius.

“If you had eaten as much as Merlin does, I would have broken my back carrying you to bed,” the grizzled Sword snickered, the comment causing Arthur to blanch though he covered it quickly.

“I do not eat too much!” Merlin growled. “Swords!”

“Don’t worry, Gaius ate more than you did at that age,” Ambrosius commented in complete negation of his prior remark.

“I most certainly did not!”

Arthur glanced over at Merlin, his eyebrows raised slightly as the two older men argued back and forth.

“If Gaius is any indication, we can expect to get hairier as we age,” Merlin murmured to him, eying Gaius’ long fall of hair.

“Hairier?” Arthur asked, looking horrified, then schooling his expression into a neutral one as Lancelot entered the office.

“Gentlemen, my apologies for being late.”

“Does this mean we have a lead on Morgause and Mordred?” Merlin asked, looking from the Proctor to the Magister.

“We received word of a Pair matching their description in Aberystwyth; unfortunately this was our last communication with our agent there, and I fear for his safety.”

Merlin nodded, his expression grave. “It seems likely that they found him and put an end to his communications. But we will hope to find him alive.”

“And well,” Arthur added, though his stoic expression said he had little hope of either.

“And if not, we’ll make those responsible very sorry for their actions.”

“We’re sure that you will,” Gaius said soberly.

The Pair took their leave of their seniors and returned to their rooms to pack and for Arthur to send a message to his father. In a short while they were on their way, Merlin strengthening their shields as they rode to the train station.

“On our way, would you mind refreshing the spells on my weapons?” Arthur asked, his tone grim.

“Of course.” Merlin had clearly never had any intention of doing otherwise. “I prefer you in one piece.”

“And I, you,” Arthur nodded.

“It’s convenient then that we’ll be returning that way. I will be devastated if you allow Morgause to defeat you, Pair-mate.” Merlin smiled faintly as he issued the challenge.

Arthur’s lip curled up in a sneer that would have done his father proud. “There’s as much a chance of that as of Mordred besting you.”

Merlin had to chuckle despite the seriousness of the situation facing them. “If confidence carries any weight, you’ll be undefeatable.”

Arthur smiled thinly. “We had best hope that’s the fact.”

“Of course it will be. My pair-mate couldn’t be less than superior.”

“Considering that you’d run over anyone else, of course not.”

Merlin grinned. “And you’d be an utter prat without me.”

Arthur gave him an arch look at that as they reached the train station, the carriage pulling to a halt and porters hurrying to converge on it to remove their baggage.

“Will you survive not travelling in the Oak Car this time?” Arthur asked, once they were settled in their seats.

Merlin looked around, taking in the comfortable but not overly luxurious appointments of the coach as well as the space around them. All the other passengers had left a zone of empty seats around them, though one curious young boy kept eyeing them, and Merlin gave it very little longer before he escaped his mother’s watchful eye and made his way to the real live Sword and Flare he’d suddenly found himself in proximity to.

“I’m sure you’ll find a way to make it up to me once we’ve completed our assignment,” he told Arthur.

“I’ll book us private accommodations,” Arthur promised, noting the small blond boy as well and smiling at him and his mother.

“An excellent plan,” Merlin approved.

“Which of us do you think he’ll approach first?” he asked, his voice rich with amusement as he watched the little boy unobtrusively.

“I would say that would depend on whether he wishes to be Searched as a Sword or a Flare,” Arthur mused.

“True. But blond, muscular, carries a sword... I’m guessing you.”

“Are you saying that I’m incapable of subtlety?”

“I’m saying children go for the obvious.” Merlin shook his head.

As if in direct contradiction to that, the youngster squirmed away from his mother and ran over, stopping in front of Merlin. “Are you a Flare?”

Arthur smirked at the question though he raised his hand to hide his change of expression.

Merlin gave his pair-mate a narrow-eyed glance before turning a smile on the boy. “Yes, I am. My name is Merlin, and this is my Sword, Arthur.”

“Pleased to meet you, Sir Flare.” The boy gave a very proper bow though his eyes never left Merlin. “I want to be a Flare; can you Search me?”

“You’re still young,” Merlin replied gently, aware of the boy’s mother approaching. “What do your parents think about that?”

“I ask your forgiveness,” the woman said graciously. “Robert knows that he will participate in the official Search come the spring equinox.”

“It’s good to see a lad so enthused about what his future might bring,” Arthur said, smiling warmly.

“There’s no need for apologies,” Merlin added. “I remember being just as eager when I was his age.” He glanced at the boy, then back at his mother with one eyebrow raised in question, clearly willing to do the Search if she was in agreement.

“Robert, how old are you?” Arthur asked, shifting and crouching down in the area in front of their seats to look the young boy in the eye. “Truthfully, now.”

“Four, Sir Sword,” he whispered, “I’ll be five come February.”

Leaning forward, Merlin braced a hand on Arthur’s shoulder as he smiled down at Robert. “And you know you’re supposed to wait till you’re at least five, don’t you?”

“But I’m _almost_ five,” he protested hopefully, making his mother hide a smile.

“I’m sure you are,” Arthur said gravely, “but the first thing that those who are Searched learn is that rules must be followed, or all would be chaos, and we exist to fight chaos. Can you do your duty and wait until the equinox, Master Robert?”

The little boy’s shoulders slumped, and he sighed heavily, but he nodded gravely. “Yes, sir, I will. But then I’m going to be a Flare!”

His mother looked at Merlin in question, and the Flare nodded very slightly, able to sense that the boy would not be disappointed. She smiled proudly as she placed a hand on her son’s shoulder.

“Come along, Robert, and let the Pair rest.”

Arthur waited until mother and son were settled back in their seats before glancing wryly over at his pair-mate. “It’s a shame.”

“What is? He’ll be Searched in the spring.”

“That we didn’t wager.” Arthur gave us trying to fight his grin at that point. “I could have relieved you of your earnings.”

“My earnings are our earnings,” Merlin pointed out. “And you’re the richer of the two of us.”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy winning a wager.”

“I’ve been known to enjoy losing one upon occasion.”

“Such as when you _knew_ that you’d never find your pair-mate?”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “You really are too smug for words.”

“I’m not the one who said it!” Arthur protested before he stretched an arm around Merlin’s shoulders and pulled him in for a hug.

“You’re the one bringing it up,” Merlin pointed out even as he shifted in his seat to settle more comfortably against Arthur.

“You were the one who brought up the fact.”

“Yes, Arthur. Whatever you say, Arthur.”

The prince smiled smugly. “I do love it when you say that.”

“I’m shocked.” Merlin rolled his eyes. “You’re lucky I love you, no matter how much of a prat you are.”

“Yes, I am,” Arthur murmured, turning his head to press a kiss against Merlin’s temple. “And I never will forget that.”

“Nor I. I’m very glad I was wrong about finding my Sword.”

“As am I.” Arthur sighed, his breath gusting through Merlin’s dark hair. “So, are we going to talk about just what our strategy is once we arrive?”

“Assuming that they’re not going to attack the moment the train arrives, we’ll have to find them,” Merlin carefully avoided speaking Mordred and Morgause’s names in the public train car even though no one was close enough to overhear. “Depending on where they’re holed up, we’ll either have to pry them out or go in after them.”

“Or draw them to us,” Arthur mused as he nodded in agreement to Merlin’s assessment. “The main issue will be keeping those around us safe.”

“Yes, I’m going to have to shield the town from Mordred’s magic. Which is going to give them some advantage since my attention will be split.”

Arthur’s lips thinned as he pressed them together then slowly shook his head. “No. If that’s the case, we go where the town isn’t. We can camp rough if needed.”

“If we have that option. They’re going to know that they have a better chance if we can’t concentrate on them,” Merlin warned. “They may not let us get out of the town.”

“In that case then, you’ll have to do what you can to shield them and yourself.”

“And you. I don’t plan to allow anyone to be harmed by them.”

Arthur started to say something, thought better of it, and finally nodded. “We’ll do our best to keep that from happening. Do you recall anything about Mordred?”

“Arrogance. He believes himself better than everyone else. Granted, he _is_ powerful, but he’s not that powerful. And he grows angry when it seems that he might lose.”

“We can work with that,” Arthur nodded, his cheek rubbing against Merlin’s hair. “From what Lancelot told me, Morgause is much the same; neither of them will believe that they can be bested.”

“We’ll just have to watch for nastiness as things progress. Mordred was prone to tantrums.”

“Morgause might rein him in, depending on their relationship. She is a strategist.”

“Unfortunate,” Merlin judged, “but we’ll use what we can once we see them together.”

“And we’ll use our strengths together against them. They haven’t had training as a Pair; there may be skills that they aren’t aware of.”

Merlin nodded. “Yes, it’s very unlikely that they can tap each other’s talents, and if they can at all, it won’t be very well.”

“We hope.”

“If not, we’ll still beat them. We have motivation, and I’m not about to lose you yet, Pair-mate.”

“Nor I, you,” Arthur promised in return.

“Good. So we’ll deal with them, lick our wounds, and then go be proper princes for a bit to keep your father happy,” Merlin promised.

Blond eyebrows arched at the last comment before Arthur chuckled quietly. “You as a proper prince? I’m looking forward to seeing that, love.”

Merlin tipped his head back on Arthur’s shoulder to grin up at him. “I’m a very good actor.”

The curve of Arthur’s lips said more than words just what he thought of the truth of that remark.

“Better than you!”

“Hah!”

“I’m going to pretend to be a bloody prince, so just shut it.”

“I’m going to have a picture taken to commemorate this,” Arthur chuckled.

“I think I hate you.”

“No, you love me, and you know it.”

“I can do both,” Merlin assured him, both of them smiling at the repetition of the familiar argument.

“Then perhaps I should inform my father that you want to have a meal alone with him,” Arthur replied just as sweetly.

Merlin balled up a fist and punched Arthur in the belly, though carefully not hard enough to hurt him. “I’m definitely leaning more toward hate at the moment.”

“Hopefully you’ll get over it before we arrive at Aberystwyth.”

“Fortunately, I still prefer you to Morgause, so it seems likely.”

“I’m more worried about you throwing me over for Jerome than Morgause,” Arthur chuckled though there was a hint of a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“Ha, Alexander would kill me if I even looked at him,” Merlin snorted. “Besides...” Merlin raised his head to rake his eyes over Arthur.

“Yes?”

“You’re much hotter than he is. And you know it.”

“And I prefer a full head of hair to a bare scalp.” Arthur reached up and tugged at a lock of Merlin’s hair as he spoke.

“I’m relieved to hear it.” Merlin flashed a grin. “My ears would be entirely too prominent if I were to shave my head.”

“Though it would make them a very easy hand-hold,” Arthur murmured into his ear.

Merlin’s gaze heated. “We can explore that after we complete our assignment.”

“And after you show me what a proper prince you can be.”

“I shall astound you with how properly princely I can be.”

“I’ll be looking forward to seeing it.”

“And I’ll expect to be well rewarded.”

“You’ll have a princely reward, I assure you,” Arthur promised.

“Composed of the Crown Prince himself?”

“If that’s what you wish.”

“You need to ask?”

Arthur smiled and pressed another kiss to Merlin’s temple. “No, because I know what I would want if I was offered the same.”

“And that’s why we’re perfect together.”

“Of course.” Arthur ruffled Merlin’s hair, then the two went back to discussing how to best prepare for what was to come.

“We should get off the train before it comes into town,” Arthur mused quietly though Merlin had cast a spell to keep their conversation quiet. “I’m worried that an attack on us might engulf the train or the station.”

Merlin nodded slowly. “Yes, that’s entirely possible. They’ll want any advantage, and attacking us before we have a chance to get comfortable would fit into that. Should we plan to get off at the previous stop or simply magic ourselves off a little outside town? Since Llanbadarn Fawr is only a few miles from Aberystwyth, it should be just enough to surprise them without startling our fellow passengers.”

Arthur mulled the question over, weighing it with what he knew of the rogue Sword and Flare. “It would be safest if we got off early and publicly; that would give them no reason to attack the train.”

“Ah, yes, I hadn’t considered that. Very well.” Merlin nodded, a sharp, vicious smile briefly curving his lips. “And if they should attack, thinking to take us by surprise, well, I’ll offer prayers of gratitude to the Lady.”

“I hope when it does happen that we’re the only ones near,” Arthur murmured.

“We’ll do everything we can to make sure of that,” Merlin promised him. “We won’t let them harm anyone else.”

“We won’t,” Arthur agreed, promising himself that as much as Merlin.

Merlin reached over to catch Arthur’s hand in his and squeezed gently. “We’ll win.”

“Of course we will; I’ve never doubted that.” Arthur twisted his hand, twining their fingers together.

“Good, I’d hate to think you were losing all sense.” Merlin gave him a quick smile. “I’d have to tell Morgana that you needed her help.”

“With what? And, really, if Morgana was going to help either of us, it would be you.”

“With your self-confidence,” Merlin replied sweetly. “Mine is fine.”

“Asking Morgana to help with that would be no help at all,” Arthur sniffed.

“I’m sure she’d be delighted to help out,” Merlin chuckled.

“No.”

Merlin tried to maintain a straight face, but he was too amused by Arthur’s expression. “We could sell tickets. It could be a brilliant source of revenue for the Crown.”

Arthur’s eyebrows rose, and he studied Merlin coolly.

“No?” Merlin snickered.

“No,” Arthur repeated calmly.

“Pity,” Merlin said. “It could have been quite entertaining. But then again, I have much better ways to pass your time.”

“A good thing that, I’d hate to have to tell Gwen that you needed her help.” The prince’s grin was lightning quick and sly, making Merlin laugh.

“You are a truly evil man. It’s fortunate I seem to like that in my Sword.”

“That would be because you have exquisite taste in your Sword as I do in my Flare.”

“As I’ve said many times before, we’re well matched in all ways.”

“Something that I’ve known from the start.”

“Yes, Arthur, clearly you’re stunningly brilliant.”

“As are you to recognize that,” Arthur chuckled, pulling his hand from Merlin’s so that he could wrap his arm around the other man’s shoulders and pull him close.

Merlin rolled his eyes, then batted his eyelashes theatrically. “Oooh, Arthur, you’re so amazing,” he cooed.

Arthur snorted out a low laugh at Merlin’s antics and lifted his hand to bat at the side of his head. “And you’re an idiot, but I love you anyway.”

“Here now, no pair-mate abuse,” Merlin exclaimed, trying not to laugh.

“It’s not abuse if you enjoy it, is it?”

“This is starting to sound like a conversation that should be held in private,” Merlin mused.

“True,” Arthur nodded, “we can revisit it once we’re done with this mess.”

“Yet another reason to deal with this quickly. I’d much rather concentrate on my pair-mate.”

“As would I, but for now all our concentration needs to be at the task at hand; first will be getting mounts for the ride into Aberystwyth.”

“We have gold, and we’re a Pair on assignment. You know if there are any horses available, they’ll be given to us. Though I’d still prefer that we pay.”

“Of course we’ll pay for the horses,” Arthur sighed, knuckling Merlin’s head again lightly. “I meant that finding them will be the first task.”

“I’d suggest starting at the livery stable,” Merlin informed him solemnly.

“You live to deflate my ego, don’t you?” Arthur asked dryly.

“It’s my solemn duty as your pair-mate.”

“And where did you learn that?”

“From the Magister, of course.”

“Why do I think that Ambrosius wasn’t around when Gaius said that?”

Merlin grinned. “Because you know that Pair well. Though to be fair, I have heard Gaius express similar sentiments to Ambrosius’ face. With rather forceful volume.”

Arthur started to laugh, but it suddenly turned to a groan. At Merlin’s quick look at him, he shook his head. “I had the unfortunate thought of the two of them making up after that argument.”

Merlin shuddered. “And that’s a thought you could have kept to yourself!”

“Pair-mates share everything,” Arthur responded sweetly.

“So when I vomit, I should aim for you?”

“Only if you wish to wear mine in return.”

“Thus we prove not everything should be shared.”

“Yes, yes, you’re correct as in most all things,” Arthur chuckled.

“I’m so glad you recognize that.”

Arthur leaned over at that, kissing Merlin to make him be quiet. When he sat up, Merlin chuckled.

“Don’t think that’s always going to work, Prince Arthur. But I will say that in this case, it’s put us in a much better frame of mind for dealing with a renegade Sword and Flare.”

“A kiss put you in a better mood for a fight?”

“Reminding me what I have to fight for did.”

 


	9. Chapter 9

They exited the train at Llanbadarn Fawr, arranging for the majority of their luggage to be removed at Aberystwyth and taken to a hotel there. Arthur scanned the surrounding area as they climbed down to the ground, his blue eyes narrowed as he looked for any potential threats.

No one else had left the train at this stop, and the only other person on the platform was a middle-aged man who appeared to be a merchant and who was speaking with the engineer.

Merlin looked around as well, staying close to Arthur but not hindering his sword arm, and his eyes, while still blue, were shading toward gold. “Something doesn’t feel right,” he murmured almost inaudibly.

“I agree,” Arthur answered just as quietly. “Let’s get away from the train.” Then in a louder voice, he added. “So, shall we find the stables?”

“You have an entirely unnatural affection for horses,” Merlin informed him as they moved farther from the train, though the nearby trees prevented them from getting very far. “They’re a very uncomfortable mode of transportation.”

By now Merlin’s eyes were pure gold and glowing, and he kept them downcast to mask the power flowing through him.

“And you would rather walk? Or perhaps we should have brought the coach along.” They walked a little farther toward the town proper, the train whistle sounding as they did so, drowning out the crunch of their boot heels on the gravel. Suddenly, Arthur slammed into Merlin’s side, drawing his sword at the same moment, the broad side of the blade deflecting the crossbow bolt that had been aimed at his pair-mate’s chest.

Merlin whirled to face the direction from which the bolt had come, a ball of magefire hurtling toward their enemies as he did. He saw it sputter out as it hit a shield, but he was distantly pleased to note that the shield bent first, showing that his opponent—no surprise—was weaker than he. Another fireball followed on the heels of the first, and by its light he got his first look at their opponents.

The woman, Morgause, was perhaps a decade older than his own Sword, with long, blond hair that she had restrained in a warrior’s braid, and she had eyes as blue as Arthur or Morgana. Her pair-mate, if such he could be called, was far younger, appearing to be in his mid-teens, with fine, straight dark hair and equally blue eyes. Both wore swords at their hips, and Morgause held a crossbow in her hands—at least until she adjusted her aim to point it at Arthur, at which instant it burned to ashes in her hands in the space of a single breath.

“Morgause and Mordred, your crimes are known to king and country; give yourselves up,” Arthur ordered, his lips thinning as he watched the woman draw her sword while a ball of fire similar to Merlin’s appeared over Mordred’s hands.

“Why should we give ourselves up when killing the two of you will remove any threat to us?” Morgause called back.

“There is the minor detail that you have no hope of killing us,” Merlin pointed out in an icy tone, sounding more regal than Arthur. “What you have done is an insult to every Sword and Flare who has ever lived and died in defense of Albion.”

“Fuck them and your beloved Academy,” Mordred snapped. “What have they ever done for us?”

“Trained you.”

“Threw us out like yesterday’s rubbish,” Mordred shot back. “After we kill you, I plan to destroy the Complex. Not one stone will remain.”

Merlin’s response was a lightning bolt that shot from the sky. It didn’t pierce Mordred’s shield, but the ripple effect visible when it was deflected lasted longer and spread over a far greater area of the shield than previous impacts.

“The Academies exist to support the crown,” Morgause sneered. “And Uther deserves nothing but death.”

Arthur’s expression didn’t change, but his hand tightened down on the hilt of his sword. “The ones who deserve death are the pair of you; we know that you woke the dragon in the north.”

“Aren’t you supposed to like dragons?” Mordred sneered, causing Merlin to regard him with disfavor.

“The injuries that ensued are on your hands,” he said coldly. “And I promised the dragon that you would pay for them.”

Another of Mordred’s attacks splashed against Merlin’s shields. The incandescence blinded both Merlin and Arthur for a split-second, and in that moment Morgause sprinted toward them, her sword held at the ready. Knowing that Merlin could hold off Mordred, Arthur started moving to meet her, acting on instinct and his training, his sword rising to meet hers even before the spots had cleared from his sight. Finely honed metal clashed together again and again as the two Swords tested each other, muscle and skill combining in a deadly dance.

Nearby, the two Flares were engaged in a battle of their own, Mordred hissing out spells that caused the earth to rise up against Merlin, only to sink back into quiescence almost instantly at a single glance from the older Flare. Fireballs flew back and forth, winds whipped at both them and their Swords, and the ground shook from the forces both men unleashed.

The jangling of a harness from around a curve in the nearby road drew Arthur’s attention, and Morgause closed with a violent flurry of strikes, leaving him on the defensive for the moment. It sounded like a two-horse wagon, and he cursed the luck that had brought someone out this way. It was plain that Morgause had heard the sounds as well, and she aimed a strike at Arthur’s arm, one that left her open on her left side.

“Mordred! Take him!” she cried, her voice tight with pain from the shallow stroke Arthur had claimed.

“No!” Merlin roared, power filling his voice as he flung a shield up around the hapless passerby though not quite in time to block the first strike. He stumbled, falling to one knee under the force of the blow Mordred leveled on him, and he was left momentarily dazed.

Mordred took advantage of Merlin’s stance and cried out another spell, the earth rising up outside the shield, forming a roughly humanoid shape that began to beat at the shield. “Morgause, we need to go!” he shouted.

The blond Sword nodded, but she wasn’t able to disengage from Arthur until another of Mordred’s spells raised a fire golem that also attacked Merlin’s shield. As soon as the prince was distracted, she took advantage of his inattention and fled, Mordred right there with her.

Arthur’s furious shout echoed in the sudden quiet, and he raced to where Merlin was slowly straightening up from where he’d slumped after dissolving both golems, supporting his pair-mate and quickly checking him for injuries before starting them toward the broken wagon and the motionless man lying across the seat.

“Next time I see that little weasel, I’m going to step on him like a bug,” Merlin snarled, leaning on Arthur as he gathered his strength.

“And I’m going to spit that bitch,” Arthur said flatly, “but right now we have to see if that man is alive or not.”

“Lord and Lady make it so,” Merlin said fervently. “Those two already have far too much to their discredit.” He gradually supported more of his own weight, allowing them to progress more rapidly toward the wagon. He breathed a sigh of relief, echoed by his Sword, when he saw movement from within, proving that the carter was at least alive.

“Sir? Are you injured?” he called.

A low groan answered the call, and Arthur, sure that Merlin was steady, broke into a run, uttering a low-voiced curse when he saw the man. “We need to get him to a physician.”

Merlin nodded. “Give me a moment, and I’ll check the horses and do what I can for them.”

“If you can’t heal them, I’ll put them out of their pain,” Arthur responded even as he frowned at the unnatural angles that marked the broken limbs of the man in the cart. He was still moaning, but he wasn’t conscious nor was he bleeding; all of the damage seemed to be internal, which could prove worse for him.

“The horses are well,” Merlin announced shortly afterward, “more frightened than injured, though I did remove a shard of wood and heal a gash in one of them. Oh Goddess!” he exclaimed when he joined Arthur and saw the state of the injured man.

He immediately climbed up beside Mordred’s victim and placed his hands on the man’s pale, clammy skin. His magic glowed in his eyes and in an almost visible nimbus around him as he poured power into the innocent, finding two new injuries for every one he healed.

“Merlin, stop!” Arthur demanded, catching his arm. “We need to get him to a physician, and we can’t do that if you’re drained.”

“What good are all my powers if I can’t heal someone who needs it?” Merlin whispered, but he drew back, maintaining only enough contact to monitor the man’s injuries.

“You aren’t a physician,” Arthur said gently as he carefully lifted the man. “You can stabilize him so we can get him to someone who can heal him; that’s what’s important.”

“I wish I could heal rather than just killing,” Merlin said unhappily, “but that’s not where my gifts lie. Not this kind of healing at least.”

“Don’t,” Arthur warned sternly. “You saved his life; you aren’t the Goddess or the Horned God, able to do everything.”

Merlin looked over at him and then reached out to squeeze his pair-mate’s arm. “You’re right, of course,” he said on a sigh.

Arthur gave another tight smile at that as they approached the town square, and he angled toward the door with the physician’s symbol over it. “Of course I am; now could you be so kind as to open that?”

Merlin didn’t even need to speak a spell for the door to swing open, clearing the way for Arthur to enter with his burden while Merlin called for assistance.

The physician descended the stairs from his private rooms, his eyes widening at the sight of an unconscious man cradled in the arms of a Sword who was sporting a few minor injuries of his own while a clearly weary Flare hovered at his side. But the man’s training overrode his surprise, and he stepped forward. “Take him into my surgery, the second door on the right,” he instructed briskly.

Wards flared as they entered the room, and Arthur carefully laid the man on the table, stepping back out of the way, staying alert as he moved to Merlin’s side.

“This is Tom Mitchum,” the physician exclaimed in surprise, hurrying to the man’s side. “What happened to him?”

“He was hit with a magical attack,” Arthur explained. “It was...” he trailed off, looking at Merlin for confirmation.

“It was a simple blast, but a powerful one,” Merlin explained, “intended to distract us so the ones responsible could escape.”

“And intended to do as much damage to the recipient as possible. I’ll do my best, but this will take time; I’d like to speak to the both of you once I’m done.” That said, the physician bent over his patient, holding his hands out over the injured man as he started to chant.

“Let’s leave him to his work,” Arthur murmured, nudging Merlin toward the door. “You need to sit.”

“I need to eat,” Merlin admitted.

“Come and sit then,” Arthur ordered, leading Merlin out of the examination room and finding a comfortable sofa for him to sit on. “I’ll get you something to eat—and compensate our host for it.”

Merlin nodded, looking exhausted as he slumped in the corner of the sofa. “Something sweet if you can find it, preferably with honey,” he instructed, despite knowing that Arthur knew the needs of a working Flare as well as Merlin himself did.

In a short time Arthur emerged from the other rooms bearing a tray full of pastries and a pot of tea accompanied by a honeycomb and a dish of hard candies. “How’s this?” he asked, setting the tray on the table in the center of the room and pulling it over to the sofa where Merlin was collapsed.

“Perfect,” Merlin said with a smile of gratitude as he reached for a pastry with one hand and Arthur with another. But a moment later the food was forgotten when he felt dampness beneath his fingers and drew them back to see blood.

“Arthur!” He leaped to his feet, reaching for his pair-mate. “You’re bleeding!”

Arthur glanced down at his left arm and shrugged slightly even as he stood, trying to calm the other man. “It’s nothing serious, love. It will keep until the physician is done; now sit and eat something before you fall over.”

“What do you mean, ‘it’s nothing serious?’” Merlin demanded shrilly. “You’re _bleeding_!” he repeated as if perhaps Arthur hadn’t understood him the first time.

“And you’re ready to fall over, so _sit_!” Arthur ordered, catching Merlin by the arm before changing his tactics. “Please? I feel like I need to.”

Merlin immediately sat and tugged Arthur down with him. Once they were both settled, he gave his pair-mate a wry look even as he reached for a pastry again while resting his free hand on Arthur’s leg. “Don’t think I don’t know what you did, dear prat of a Sword.”

“I used my training to achieve my goal,” Arthur answered mildly. “And after you eat that, you can bandage my arm if you’d like—to prove I don’t mind you fussing over me, of course.”

A snort was Merlin’s opinion of that. Once he’d put himself on the outside of several more pastries, the honeycomb, two cups of tea and a handful of the candies, he finally stopped eating long enough to comment, “I would take it as a great personal favor if you would refrain from getting injured in future. I don’t like it all!”

“I’d rather that was the case as well—though I could say the same about you working yourself to exhaustion,” Arthur pointed out as he worked on tying a large cloth napkin around his upper arm.

“Stop that!” Merlin slapped Arthur’s hand away and took over, carefully bandaging the wound after murmuring a quiet spell. Thanks to his fatigue, he wasn’t able to heal it completely despite it being a simple injury, but he did enough that he wasn’t worried about Arthur bleeding out before the physician could tend to it properly.

“I do have to agree,” he finally responded to Arthur’s comment once he was done hovering. “Clearly the solution for both of us is to be rid of those blemishes upon the names of Swords and Flares as soon as we possibly can.”

“At least now we know what they’re capable of,” Arthur mused, flexing his arm slightly as he spoke then smiling his thanks at his pair-mate. “That will make it easier to predict their moves.”

“Yes, and then we will put a stop to any further moves on their part,” Merlin practically hissed, his eyes glowing slightly from the power of his emotions.

“Damn right,” Arthur assured him, resting a restraining hand on his arm. “But calm yourself, Merlin; you’re worn enough as it is.”

Merlin snarled before forcibly pushing his magic down, knowing that Arthur was right and equally not wanting to take his frustration out on his pair-mate. “I don’t think calm is quite possible,” he admitted, “but you’re right that it serves no purpose to grow angry just now.”

“Have some more tea and another pastry; you need the energy.”

“I just ate a dozen!”

“Eat another; you’re drained,” Arthur countered firmly.

“Yes, Mum.” Rolling his eyes, Merlin took another of the small cakes and popped it in his mouth.

“I’m going to remind you that you called me that when next we’re in bed together.”

“You remind me of my mum when we’re in bed, and the only thing we’ll be doing is sleeping!”

“You’re the one who said it!”

“You’re the one acting like her!”

“Gentlemen, I don’t believe that you brought Master Mitchum here only to disturb his rest now that he is on his way to being healed.”

Both men started at the sound of the tired voice, and Arthur sprang to his feet to assist the physician to a chair. “You have our apologies, Doctor. I’m very glad to hear that you were able to heal him though.”

“And now I’m sorry to say you need to finish healing my idiot pair-mate,” Merlin added, reassured enough about the state of Arthur’s wound that he actually did sound as if he regretted the imposition on the already tired man. “I partially healed it, but I’m afraid I was too drained to complete it.”

“Perhaps I should be the judge of that,” the physician suggested. “Where are you injured, Sword...?”

“Arthur and the strike was to my left arm, and despite what Flare Merlin assumes, it is in no danger of falling off.”

“Of course not or I wouldn’t have let you stop me before it was done,” Merlin scoffed, making the healer hide a smile.

“As I said, I shall be the judge of it,” he informed the Pair as he unwrapped the bandage. His eyebrows rose as he took in the sight of the nearly healed wound that appeared weeks old. “Had you not been a Flare, Master Merlin, you would have made a fine healer.”

“Ah, but he is a Flare—my Flare,” Arthur said possessively, and Merlin beamed at him.

“Just as you’re _my_ Sword, my beloved princely prat.”

“Prince... Arthur? Goddess, you’re the crown prince?” the physician gasped, starting to bow, at least until Arthur caught him and kept him upright.

“Sword Arthur,” he said, his voice firm. “And forgive us for not asking your name, Doctor. You have done us a great service here.”

“It is my honor to serve you,” the man all but babbled while Merlin rolled his eyes in the background. “I am Aloysius Middleton, Your Highness.”

Arthur opened his mouth to correct the older man again but stopped himself, seeing that it wouldn’t do any good. “You will, of course, submit a bill for your services to the Crown.”

“And as Arthur said, thank you,” Merlin added, trying to get the physician’s attention off Arthur so the man could settle down.

“It is my pleasure to serve.”

Arthur resisted rolling his eyes and smiled at the man. “We will also, of course, reimburse you for the amount of food that my pair-mate has eaten.”

Merlin stuck his tongue out at him. “Are you implying that I eat too much?”

“Merely that you needed a large amount of food to replenish the energy you used during the attack.” Arthur grew more serious at that and frowned, realizing that he hadn’t sent news of what they had found back to the capitol.

“Is something wrong?” Merlin asked immediately, as always conscious of any change in his Sword’s mood.

“We need to message the Magister and Proctor as well as the king to inform them of Morgause and Mordred’s escape.”

Merlin winced. “So much for our vaunted prowess,” he sighed. “Your father may want you to exchange me.”

“Stop it.”

“Okay, so not really,” Merlin admitted with another sigh. “But this has not been a particularly successful foray for us.”

“No, it hasn’t,” Arthur agreed while the physician watched the two of them, not sure what to say. “But we’re here, and we have a mission to finish; we need to locate Sword Elias.”

“Oh, Lord and Lady, yes,” Merlin groaned, appalled at himself for having nearly forgotten the poor man. “Though I have to admit that I greatly fear they killed him.”

“I fear the same, but until we know for certain, there is hope. Dr. Middleton, will your patient be awake any time soon?”

“No, I’ve placed him in a deep healing sleep so that his body can recover from the trauma. I will not wake him before tomorrow morning at the earliest,” the physician replied firmly.

Arthur nodded at that before glancing at Merlin as if gauging how much he had recovered. “We need to go to Aberystwyth, but we will be back to meet with you and him when his health allows it.”

“It would be best to allow him to rest for several days. Though he is healed, his resources are drained, and he requires rest. Perhaps I could message you or the Academy when he is up to it?” Dr. Middleton suggested.

“That seems reasonable,” Merlin said. “Unless it takes us that long to track down the whereabouts of Sword Elias, of course.”

“Of course, and I will offer prayers to the Goddess that you find him well.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Arthur said, holding out his hand to shake the other man’s hand. “We hope for the same.”

They took their leave and made their way to the livery stable to hire horses to get them to Aberystwyth. It was a matter of only a short time before they were on their way.

“It seems as if the weather should reflect the gravity of our errand rather than the sun shining down upon us,” Merlin mused.

“So you would prefer it to be raining on us on top of what this day has brought so far?”

“Perhaps not.” Merlin had to admit that would be miserably uncomfortable. “Though it would seem more apt,” he insisted.

“If it would make you feel better, you could make it rain on yourself,” Arthur offered.

“If you keep talking, I’ll make it rain on you. Again.”

“That would soak my injury.”

“You should soak your head!”

“Perhaps once we’ve found Elias—or didn’t you mean a bath?”

Merlin snorted. “Dollop head!”

“But you love me, and your tree loves my dragon.”

“Clearly both I and my tree are touched in the head,” Merlin informed him.

“Possibly, but my dragon and I both love you as well,” Arthur assured him.

“You’re both mad too. Which I suppose makes us perfect for each other,” Merlin said, the familiar words causing a grin finally to break across his face despite the day’s events and what likely lay ahead of them.

“No matter what, never forget that.”

“I never do.” Merlin’s eyes flared gold for an instant, and invisible lips brushed over Arthur’s, making him smile and put his heels against his mount’s sides, kicking it into a gallop toward Aberystwyth.

~*~

 “This is the last address the Proctor had for Elias.” The words were spoken as they stopped in front of an old stone building.

Merlin nodded, shields already around both of them. “I pray I’m wrong but...” He trailed off, not wanting to put it into words.

“There are times when we must be realists.” They dismounted and tied their horses to the rail outside the house before resolutely striding to the door.

“Are there wards?”

Merlin shook his head even as he pushed the door open. He immediately flinched from what he felt from inside. “Oh Goddess,” he whispered.

Blood painted the walls though the circle around the ragged remains of a man’s dismembered body was strangely clear of the blackened fluid.

“They are going to die bloody,” Arthur snarled, his hand clenching on the hilt of his sword. “Bloody and hard.”

“I will rend their souls from the wheel of rebirth so that never again may they cause harm,” Merlin vowed, his tone as inflexible as granite.

The prince’s blue eyes widened at the amount of power pouring off of Merlin; it was as if his earlier battle had never happened as golden energy glowed in his eyes.

Needing to release some of it, Merlin pointed at the bloated and decomposing corpse, and it burst into flame, burning to ash within moments. “May your next life be better than the last,” Merlin murmured, giving the Sword the traditional words of blessing spoken over the dead.

Arthur stepped closer to Merlin and wrapped his arms around the slimmer man’s waist, supporting him. “May the Goddess carry you swiftly and safely to your time of rebirth,” he intoned in answer to Merlin’s words.

Merlin leaned on Arthur as he caused a wind to spring up, scattering Elias’ ashes and carrying them outdoors, to spread naturally in the great cycle of life. “You will be avenged,” he promised.

“This building should be razed,” Arthur added, looking at the desecrated remains of what at one time had been a comfortable sitting area.

“Yes, and the ground blessed afterward. We’ll need to speak to the local priestess to make sure of it. No one could live here as it is now.” Merlin shuddered at the very idea.

“It can perhaps be reconsecrated and put to a good use once the blessings have settled.”

Merlin nodded. “Yes, that would be fitting.” He sighed very softly and straightened away from Arthur. “Soonest begun, soonest done,” he murmured. “Come away so I can raze it, and then we can seek out the priestess.”

“In the morning, Merlin,” Arthur said gently. “You still need to rest. Ward the building, and we can inform the magistrate and the priestess. The performing of the duty can wait until the morning.”

Merlin wanted to argue, but he truly was exhausted, mind, body and power. He nodded. “Very well,” he agreed. “So long as you promise to rest with me.”

“Of course I will, in that bath you promised me earlier, once we get to the hotel.”

Despite his rage and sorrow and the solemnity of the previous moments, Merlin was surprised into a weak chuckle. “And will you scrub my back?” he asked in an attempt at their usual banter.

“You have my solemn promise to do so.” Arthur tightened the arms he had around Merlin’s waist before stepping back to survey the room a final time. “Before you raze the place, I would like to examine the rest of the rooms to see if Elias had hidden any information.”

“Very well, you can do that in the morning. I won’t take it down until you tell me you’re done,” Merlin told him. “But now, can we leave?” he asked almost plaintively.

“Of course, love.” He wrapped an arm back around Merlin’s waist and got him out the door and onto the walk where the miasma that surrounded the house faded somewhat. “Can you ward the building?” At Merlin’s nod, he pulled out his tablet and sent off notes to the officials who needed to know what had occurred.

By the time Arthur was finished with his notifications, Merlin had set unbreakable wards around the building and was ready to leave. “Not even Gaius could get through that,” he informed his Sword.

“All right.” Arthur untied their horses’ reins, handing Merlin’s over to him so that they could mount up. “I believe the hotel we were to stay at is back along the main thoroughfare.”

“Reasonable.” Merlin rode along beside him, slowly relaxing as they put more distance between themselves and the site of the other Sword’s death. “Perhaps our luggage is even there so that we can put on something clean.”

“After we bathe,” Arthur nodded, part of his attention on the area around them on the off chance that Morgause and Mordred had followed them.

Noticing what Arthur was doing, Merlin was quick to set his mind at rest. “Now that I know what they feel like, I’ve linked a sort of shield to that. If they get anywhere near us, I’ll know it.”

Arthur relaxed slightly at that. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re rather smart, Pair-mate?”

“Of course.” Merlin smirked at him. “I got you, didn’t I?”

“I’ll remind you that you said that the next time you complain about my other duties.”

“And I’ll agree that I want you and still complain,” Merlin assured him.

“If you ever stop, I’ll know that you’ve been possessed by an evil spirit.”

An invisible hand pinched Arthur’s ass, causing him to flinch and glare over at Merlin even as they turned their mounts onto the main street, easing into the flow of carriages and wagons. Merlin responded with an innocent gaze and inquiringly raised eyebrow, trying hard to lighten their mood.

“Don’t play innocent with me, Flare Merlin,” Arthur sniffed, his expression lightening as he looked down his nose at the other man, doing his best impression of his father.

“Why, Sword Arthur, are you implying that I’m something other than innocent?”

“Not implying; stating.”

“I’m so misunderstood.”

Arthur barked out a laugh at that. “In your dreams perhaps you are but not by me.”

Merlin smiled. “Lucky me.”

“Once we’ve collapsed in a bath and have eaten, I’ll show you just how lucky.”

“You really are the best Sword.”

“For you,” Arthur smiled. “And there’s the hotel.” He nodded to a large, ornate building on the right side of the street and guided his horse toward the uniformed men standing outside the gilded doors.

“Oh, you must be having me on!” Merlin groaned, regarding the glittering building with dismay though he did follow his Sword after only a moment’s hesitation.

“Comfortable bed, large bath, good food,” Arthur cajoled before pulling his mount to a stop by one of the men, who immediately took hold of the horse’s reins, nodding at the attendant before pressing a coin into his hand. “See that these horses are delivered to the livery stable, there’s a good man.” He gave the other attendant an identical amount as he held Merlin’s mount.

Sighing, Merlin dismounted and gave the golden doors an unhappy look. “What’s wrong with plain and comfortable?” he wanted to know, though he kept his voice too low for anyone other than Arthur to overhear him.

“Nothing, but luxurious has its place as well.” They climbed up the stairs; dust from their travels and the earlier battle drifting down to settle on the white marble there.

“Mm hmm.” Merlin was patently unconvinced, but frankly at the point, he didn’t care. They were both exhausted and needed time in private to rest and simply be Arthur and Merlin, not Sword and Flare.

“Plain or luxurious, as long as it has a bed and a bath, I’ll take it.”

Arthur rested his hand at the small of Merlin’s back as the uniformed doormen pulled the doors open for them, and they stepped from the bright daylight into the cool dimness of lobby where their entrance drew the attention of well-dressed scions of society who took note of their entrance, then looked away.

“Are they being polite or looking down their noses because we’re grubby?” Merlin asked Arthur very quietly.

“Some of one, some of the other I would imagine,” Arthur answered though his chin had risen and his gaze narrowed at the reactions of those around them.

“We require some assistance here,” Merlin said coldly, his icy gaze passing over the people.

One of the members of the staff, a dark-haired man in a well-cut suit, approached them quickly at that. “May I help you, gentlemen? It’s not often that we get a Pair at the Queen’s Hotel.”

Arthur opened his mouth to speak but closed it again as he caught sight of Merlin’s posture, deciding to see what his reaction was going to be.

“Then count yourselves fortunate that you don’t often have occurrences that require the intervention of a Pair,” Merlin informed him. “We will need a room for the night. I don’t expect we’ll be staying longer than that after we speak to the local priestess tomorrow.”

“Do you have any baggage?” the clerk asked politely, the question causing Arthur to clear his throat to cover a laugh.

Merlin sighed. “We certainly hope so. We were obliged to get off the train in Llanbadarn Fawr without our belongings, but we presume our baggage would have been taken off at our destination, which is here.”

The clerk raised his hand and snapped his fingers, and a young woman in a uniform that matched those of the attendants outside hurried to his side. “Was there any baggage delivered from the train station?”

“Two pieces, sir,” she replied promptly. “They’re in the storage room.”

“Lovely,” Merlin said. “You can have them delivered to our room once you assign us one.” He glanced at his pair-mate and added, “Your best room, I think. For once I’ll allow my Sword his preference for the best.”

“If we might have your names for the register?”

Merlin gave him a very thin smile and deliberately responded in a voice loud enough to be heard throughout the lobby. “Merlin Emrys and Arthur Pendragon.”

Dead silence greeted that remark—at least until the clerk recovered enough to begin to fawn over them and several of the other guests moved closer.

“We would very much like to be shown our suite now,” Arthur added.

“And we have had an extremely tiring day, so we don’t wish to be disturbed for any reason other than the delivery of dinner,” Merlin said, giving a hard look to the people edging toward them.

“Of course, Prince Merlin; may I say that it is a pleasure to have both you and Prince Arthur as our guests.”

“It would have been more pleasant if you had shown us the same courtesy when you thought us simply dusty pair-mates,” Arthur said quietly.

There was nothing the clerk could say to that, and several of the people in the lobby had the grace to flush with embarrassment.

“We’d like to be shown to our room now,” Merlin repeated, and a bellhop quickly stepped forward to do just that, taking the keys from the desk clerk.

“We’ll have your baggage sent right up,” the clerk stammered as the two men turned to follow the bellhop to the elevator where the operator already had the gate open and the car waiting for them.

“Very nicely played, Pair-mate,” Arthur murmured once the gate was closed behind them.

“I’m not a dragonlord’s son for nothing,” Merlin replied, sounding amused. “Plus... six years of Morgana,” he finished with a chuckle.

“Now you just need to remember that when we’re in the castle.”

Merlin cast him a wry glance. “I rather think your father’s always going to be better at it.”

“He’s had longer to perfect it,” Arthur pointed out as the elevator jerked to a stop and the operator hurried to open the gate so that the bellhop could lead them to their room, the door one of only two in the hallway.

“And always will,” Merlin returned as they entered their room, which was, much to Merlin’s relief, tastefully decorated and distinctly lacking in gilt.

“Thank you,” he said to the bellhop, pressing a coin into his hand before the young man took his leave, and they were finally alone and in a safe place.

Arthur pulled Merlin into a tight hug, resting his face against Merlin’s and breathing deeply while Merlin held on equally tightly, his magic enfolding Arthur. He could feel himself slowly settling as the familiar sensation that was Arthur filled all of his senses.

“It has been a very long day,” Arthur murmured, breathing the words into the dark hair near his face.

The sound Merlin made had as much of tears as of laughter in it. “I hope we don’t have many like it.”

“As do I, but if we do, we’ll see them through together.”

“Yes,” Merlin agreed, “together. Always.” He managed a shaky chuckle. “My tree’s not about to give up your dragon.”

“We’d come after it if it tried,” Arthur assured him.

“You dragons, so possessive.”

“We’ve been known to hoard treasure in the past; I may have to revive the tradition.”

Merlin’s eyebrows rose. “Are you calling me treasure?”

“Would you prefer that my dragon find an eyepatch so I could call you booty?”

Merlin burst into laughter. “Wouldn’t you need a parrot rather than a dragon in that event?” he snickered, Arthur chuckling as well.

“Perhaps a small, brightly colored dragon instead,” Arthur answered after musing the question over.

“I should dearly love to be present for the conversation in which you attempt to convince a dragon to use its magic to remain small and become multi-colored!”

“That will happen as soon as I decide to become a pirate,” Arthur said dryly.

“What a pity. I could have entertained our friends for decades with that tale.”

“So sorry to disappoint you.” Arthur’s next words were cut off by a diffident-sounding knock at the door. “And that would be our baggage.” He stepped back from Merlin to walk to the door, checking through the security portal to assure himself that it was indeed the young woman they had seen earlier with their bags before opening the door.

Once she was gone and their luggage safely stowed in the bedroom of their suite, Merlin went to Arthur and wrapped himself around the Sword, his head falling to Arthur’s shoulder.

“Shall I run you a bath now, Flare Merlin?” Arthur murmured, though he seemed to be content standing where they were with his arms wound tightly around the slimmer man.

Merlin nodded without raising his head from where he had it tucked under Arthur’s chin, and he appeared unwilling to let go of his pair-mate.

“We’re going to have to move if you’d like me to do that.” Arthur’s voice was gentle, and he stroked a hand over Merlin’s back as he spoke, soothing them both.

“Soon,” Merlin replied, still without moving. “Right now, all I need is you.”

“Then that’s what you’ll have.” Arthur spoke the words against Merlin’s dark hair, his breath stirring the fine strands, and Merlin sighed very softly, the last of the tension seeping out of his body.

“You always give me what I need.” He finally raised his head and brushed a soft kiss over Arthur’s lips, which curved into a tender smile.

“Because that’s what I need as well.”

“Fortunately for me, you don’t seem to mind when I sometimes sink into treacly sweetness.”

“I like it; it makes you taste good,” Arthur chuckled, dipping his head to lick at Merlin’s ear while the dark-haired Flare chuckled, Arthur’s antics cheering him.

“You really are quite mad, but I seem to like that about you, Your Highness.”

“How convenient, because I love that fact about you.” A gleam in Arthur’s eyes should have warned Merlin as Arthur lifted him and started carrying him into the bathroom.

Merlin yelped and grabbed onto Arthur’s shoulders. “A bit of warning would be nice, you prat!” he grumbled, but he was already curling into Arthur’s arms.

“Ahh, but surprising you is much more fun.”

“If I didn’t love you, I would be sorely tempted to turn you into an ass!”

“Which would lead to you being dropped on yours,” Arthur pointed out.

“Not if I were riding you.”

“In which way?”

Merlin burst into laughter. “Since I have no unnatural interest in animals, I’ll save the more interesting riding for you as a human, even if you are barking mad.”

“Are you positive?” Arthur asked, his eyebrows rising. “I wouldn’t want to be kicked out of bed one night by a mule you had brought in for lewd behavior.”

“I think I can manage to restrict my lewd behavior to you,” Merlin told him. “When I’m not tempted to kick you in the arse!”

“What was that? Kiss my arse?”

A mini storm cloud appeared over Arthur’s head, tiny lightning bolts flashing, but no rain fell—yet.

“Don’t strain yourself; you’ve drained your power today,” Arthur murmured.

“I’m never that tired,” Merlin protested, but the cloud vanished as he let his head rest on Arthur’s shoulder.

“So are you saying you’d rather stand on your own?” Arthur asked as he shouldered the washroom door open and stopped beside the large marble bathtub.

“Prat,” Merlin grumbled. “See if I’m nice to you next time you’re exhausted.”

“You will be,” Arthur said with surety. “Care to turn on the tap?”

Merlin glanced at it, and a moment later the water was flowing at the perfect temperature, the use of magic as natural to him as breathing. “Sharing a bath again, just like on our first night as a Pair—though with a somewhat different conclusion to the night,” he finished with a quick smile.

“Most definitely,” Arthur chuckled before pulling Merlin in for a kiss. “You do know I have no life without you, don’t you?”

“Of course you don’t. Because I would never let you go,” Merlin informed him. “You’re mine, Arthur Pendragon, and I’ll even take the bloody throne to have you.”

“If you’d prefer, we can find a red velvet cushion for you to sit on...”

“I’m not too tired to smack you!”

“In the mood for that, are we?”

“You always seem to put me in the mood for that.”

“So shall I strip us down so that we can get into the tub and enjoy each other?”

“It would probably be more pleasant than attempting to wash our clothes while bathing.”

Arthur chuckled as he set Merlin on his feet and proceeded to divest him of his clothes, his fingers lingering on each and every bit of bared flesh.

“You do that very well,” Merlin observed, content to allow Arthur to do as he liked.

“That’s because it’s something I enjoy.” Finishing with Merlin’s clothes, Arthur started in on his own, tossing aside his bloodstained jacket and shirt and burying them beneath the rest of his clothes.

“And I like you doing it.” Once they were both undressed, Merlin took hold of Arthur’s hand and drew him to the tub, urging him in so that Merlin could follow and settle against him.

Arthur breathed out a sigh and relaxed back against the smooth side of the tub, his arms wrapped tightly around Merlin’s waist, concentrating on his pair-mate and letting the day’s events recede from his consciousness for this short while.

“Moments like this make everything worthwhile,” Merlin murmured. “I love you.”

Arthur leaned in and kissed Merlin’s temple. “I love you as well, and that’s something time isn’t going to change.”

Merlin chuckled softly. “I think your dragon has put down even deeper roots than my tree.”

“Exactly; dragons are very possessive, or hadn’t you heard that?”

“So my tree and I are your hoard?” Merlin sounded pleased by the idea this time.

“Mmm, yes,” Arthur purred, nuzzling Merlin’s cheek. “All ours, no one else gets near.”

“That goes both ways, and I’m perfectly fine with that.”

“Very glad to hear that, and the next time an heiress paws me, I’m going to thrust you at her,” Arthur assured him.

“Only if you want me to turn her into a rat!”

“For just the evening?”

“That would depend on how much she paws you.”

“I promise that I would be thrusting you at her before she even got near me.” Arthur paused and frowned at that. “Though that might mean that she pawed you...”

Twisting to get a look at Arthur’s expression, Merlin looked amused. “It seems I shall have to make sure you’re unarmed before any functions.”

“If I can’t have a weapon, you can’t use your spells.”

“Fine, I’ll use weapons, and you use magic.”

“Or we simply ignore them and concentrate on each other,” Arthur suggested. “Killing off the landed gentry’s daughters could cause problems.”

“We could always set Morgana and Gwen on them while we ignore them,” Merlin mused.

“And what would they want in return?”

“Possibly nothing. They’re rather protective of both of us in case you haven’t noticed.”

“Perhaps we should marry them so that we can be considered off the market.”

Merlin shifted so that he could see Arthur. “That might actually be the best idea for all of us, my love. All of us would know why we were marrying, so there would be no illusions, and just imagine the little Swords and Flares we could have.”

“You do realize that would mean having... relations with them—and I’m sorry but you would have to marry Morgana because I am not having relations with her!”

“I’m trying not to think about the details of that,” Merlin muttered. “But we already knew that had to happen with someone. You have to have an heir, Prince Arthur. And yes, I rather assumed Sword with Sword and Flare with Flare.”

Arthur sighed and grumbled something under his breath.

“I’m sure you’re commenting on how brilliantly this could work.”

“I’m wondering if you could give yourself a womb, actually.”

Merlin splashed him, glaring.

“Well, it isn’t as if I’m going to be happy for you to be spending nights with someone else, no matter who they are.”

Merlin’s expression turned somewhat sickly at that reminder. “One night. One night per child. Magic will guarantee that much.”

“Have I mentioned how glad I am that neither of us will have to carry the children?”

“A moment ago you wanted me to!”

“That was in jest!”

Merlin splashed him again, and Arthur nibbled at his earlobe in retaliation.

“You’re not playing fair,” Merlin informed Arthur while leaning into him comfortably.

“You say that like you mind it.”

“I didn’t say _that_.” Merlin chuckled and kissed Arthur’s chest, Arthur giving a satisfied rumble at the contact.

“So, shall I show you other ways I don’t play fair?”

“Please do.”

~*~

 “Well, that didn’t go too badly considering we had to tell the king, Proctor and Magister that Mordred and Morgause are still free,” Merlin said as he and Arthur made their way to their apartment in the castle after being released from the very uncomfortable briefing. “Do you think we’ll fare as well with Morgana and Gwen?”

“Well, they did know the broad facts of our failure,” Arthur mused. “As for Morgana and Gwen, why do I think that very outrageous bribes will be involved?”

“Because you know them well,” Merlin sighed. “Gwen is going to make a spectacular queen.”

“She won’t enjoy it—she and you are much the same in that way.”

“I’m sure you and Morgana will drag us along.”

“Of course.” Arthur’s smile was predatory. “We’ll have you outnumbered at that point.”

“I beg your pardon? How does two outnumber two?” Merlin wanted to know.

“Because, no matter which of us that you turn to will give you the same reaction.”

Merlin stuck his tongue out at his pair-mate.


End file.
